


We're Here To Make You Think About Death And Get Sad And Stuff!

by heroic_pants



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi, There will be shenanigans, but yes: the musical festival band au you never knew you wanted, how is polly/sweet pea a tag and sweet pea/reggie isn't how did more people agree om that, i wrote all the tags and it deleted them ugh, music festival AU, stop underusing the serpent kids 2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-02-27 07:05:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 70,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroic_pants/pseuds/heroic_pants
Summary: Three bands, nine musicians and 70,000 fans converge in one crazy day in and around a energetic, if lesser known Californian summer music festival.This festival might be exactly what Jughead, Toni, Sweet Pea and Toni's underground-famous indie band, Jughead's Revenge, needs - but maybe not in the way they're expecting, if certain members of other bands they get mixed up with have anything to do with it!





	1. Arriving

**Author's Note:**

> if you recognise the title, you probably have a pretty good idea of what soundtrack I was listening to when I wrote this first chapter :)) I owe this/blame this idea on @village_skeptic who sent me this flyer for a 90s music festival and instantly made me want to write this (https://village-skeptic.tumblr.com/post/168493202180/crankypunk-nofxthe) good looking out!

It has to be nearly a hundred degrees out. Certainly over ninety. Jughead Jones feels sweat pooling in all sorts of uncomfortable places, but tries to focus. 

“So when we get to the festival, we’ll be straight into soundcheck, ok? Then, we’ll probably go back to our rooms for a short rest, but then – hey, are you fucks listening?” Toni asks the assembled boys threateningly, standing at the front of the small, white practice room.

Jughead looks at Fangs, who pales guiltily. If his hunch is correct, he was probably zoning out thinking of lyrics to fit a new song. Toni glares at him, and he clasps his hands together in a joking prayer, but a genuine apology. 

Satisfied, she turns her narrowed gaze to Sweet Pea, who is currently spread out on the couch, drumming on his raised legs and also clearly not paying attention. As long as Jughead’s known him, he’s never been able to sit still without fiddling with something. 

She throws a pen at him, and he looks up in irritated surprise. “Hey!” 

“Sorry if we’re boring you, babe, but the rest of us are interested in not fucking up this opportunity, if you’d like to listen?” she says, with an arch look. 

He rolls his eyes, but sits up. “Tone, no disrespect, but it’s too fucking hot to be able to focus right now. I’m sticking to the damn seat.” 

Jughead privately agrees, but would not admit it aloud for any amount of money. He likes being alive, mostly, and he’d like to keep living.

Toni rubs her eyes and sighs long-sufferingly. “Lord, give me strength.”

She looks around at them, pulling tendrils of frazzled-looking pink hair out of her face. “Look, sure we all wanna slack off right now, ok? You think I haven’t got better things to do than hang out in a smelly practice room on a hot day with you three guys?” 

“Do you, though?” Sweet Pea cracks, and without missing a beat she finds another pen on the desk behind her and throws it at him with perfect accuracy, making Fangs and Jughead grin. This time he grins too, though. 

She rolls her eyes, but she can’t help smiling too. “This is a just...a fucking  _ big deal _ , guys. We play more festivals like this, we can really get out there.  _ And  _ we might even be able to get an actual tour bus instead of our van!”

“Hey, we’d never replace Marjorie!” Jughead cries, a shocked hand flying to his heart. 

“She’s part of the family!” Fangs agrees, looking scandalised. 

“And you don’t replace family,” Sweet Pea says mock-seriously, 

“No, but you can replace friends. As I should’ve.  _ Many _ years earlier.” Toni snarks, making Jughead laugh. She often acts like she has a very low tolerance for them, but they’ve known each other long enough to know that she doesn’t mean it, and would actually do pretty much anything to help any of them out. 

***

“You’re not following what the Google maps lady is saying!” 

“Sweet Pea, I swear to God, I will disembowel you with a spork if you keep second-guessing me!” 

Toni actually loves this part of travelling, oddly – it might seem like she’s arguing with a friend on an already-long car ride, and she is, but this is part of their tradition. Neither of them are actually mad, but they’re both reactive, and it’s a kind of fun way to let out their built up frustrations. 

Fangs is asleep in the backseat, having brought one of those neckpillows people get for sleeping on long fights. It looks quaintly incongruous on someone wearing a sleeveless dark-plaid shirt (all the better to show off his tattoos). 

Jughead is listening to music next to him with his big earphones on, and Toni can see him staring out the window in the rear-view mirror, occasionally jotting things down in his notebook. The same one he’s used since they were fifteen, a Christmas gift from his Dad. Maybe that’s why he’s still using it, even though it must nearly be out of free space by now, and it’s battered as all hell. 

They had opted to drive to the Festival – it was about two days drive from Portland to San Jose if you were very caffeinated, broke and dedicated – and they really could not afford to fly, so they piled their instruments into the van and drove in shifts.

“Hey, throw something at Jug, I need to ask him something?” She asks Sweet Pea, and he grins. 

“With pleasure, Tone.” 

Band dynamics often involved throwing of soft, or small-ish hard objects at another member to get their attention, or to annoy them, or to punish them for not listening in a band meeting.  It was just how they’d always done things. 

“Ow, what?” Jughead says grumpily, even though the object thrown was a small plush toy that no one will admit to owning, so it has taken up residence in the van as a sort of unofficial band mascot. 

“Are you good with the set list? You’ve been looking over it for like an hour and a half now,” she asks him nonchalantly. 

He nods, looking at his notebook. “Yeah, I think it’s good enough. I rearranged some of the numbering though - I really think ‘Parallels’ should come up later, that one always kills so we should save it, and I’m just going to suggest ”Hitchcock’s Bloated Ghost -”

She cuts him off with an emphatic “No!” at the same time Sweet Pea laughs an emphatic ”Yes!”

It had come out of a bet that Jughead couldn’t write a song with that title that actually included it in the lyrics, and as much as she didn’t like putting it in their professional sets, she can’t deny it’s a surprisingly good song.

“Come on, it’s so fun!” Jughead wheedles, grinning.

She gives him a sideways look. “I can’t believe you, Jug, are advocating for fun here.”

He gives her a more familiar glare. “Only on special occasions. Like playing this song for an actual festival audience. Come on, Toni.”

“Yeah, come on Toni!” Sweet Pea echoes, and then gets smiles devilishly at her. “ _ Come on To-ni..”  _ he begins singing and she groans. 

Jughead smirks at her from the rear-view, and joins in. “ _ Oh well, I swear well he means,” _

She tries to ignore them, cursing them mentally. Busting out Dexy’s to her is an unfair move.

“ _ At this moment you mean eveeeerythiiiing,”  _ they chorus, smirking, and she fights a smile.

“ _ You in that dress, well my thoughts I confess verge on-“  _ Sweet Pea says with an obnoxious wink, for which she would definitely punch him if she wasn’t driving. Not because he would ever in a million years mean it, but it’s the principle of the thing.

“-Ok, I get it, thanks guys,” she cuts them off, but can’t help grinning as well. They’re such dorks. They’re her dorks, though. “I will  _ think  _ about it.”

Sweet Pea and Jughead cheer. She hears Fangs wake with a sudden noise. “What are we celebrating?” he asks, yawning.

“Your friends used unfair tactics to a win a point,” she says, mock-annoyed.

“We get to play the Hitchcock song,” Jughead replies smugly to Fangs. “Maybe!” she calls back. 

“Awesome!” Fangs says happily. “Let me know though, I gotta warm my voice up for that one right. All the kids are gonna love it! Did I bring my Hitchcock jacket here though?...”

She shakes her head, smiling, and then Sweet Pea tries to tell her to take a different exit. “I swear I will GUT YOU LIKE A FISH, OK –“

***

The festival has covered their accommodation, in a on-site renovated mid-century motel called The Siren. Their first soundcheck had gone surprisingly well, and no one had thrown a thing at each other, which was a win in her book.

But they’ve allowed a maximum of two rooms. Toni sighs. It’s not that she hasn’t shared grosser accommodation with them, and she’s already sharing a tiny apartment with Jughead. It would just have been nice to have her own, non-guy crowded space for a day or so.

She hands out the keys. “You’re with me Jug, I’m assuming?” She says, turning to him.

He takes his key. “Yeah, otherwise Sweet Pea’s snoring will keep me awake. Though I might hear it through the wall,” he jokes, and Sweet Pea swipes at him.

“I’ll be happy not to put up with you keeping the light on all night to write in your notebook, Jug.”  Sweet Pea snarks back.

Fangs smirks at Toni, but throws a jovial arm around Sweet Pea. “Come on, let’s go check out the mini-bar stich,” he says soothingly, leading him away.

“Hey, you better keep it under ten dollars!” Toni calls after them. 

*

After she and Jughead have unpacked the essentials, she decides she wants something to eat but cannot be fucked to drive anywhere right now. It’s too early for dinner, but they’re taking a hour to rest from driving before they have a last practice to run through some things.

“You wanna hunt down a snack? I think I saw some vending machines outside by the front office?” she asks Jughead, watching him stretched out on the twin bed writing in his notebook.

He looks up. “I’m kind of onto something here, bring me something back?” 

She rolls her eyes at him. “Ok, fine. But you’re buying me dinner tonight.”

“Mm, sure.” He says, already engrossed in his book again.

She crosses down to the lobby, which has a 60s California surfer vibe, but which has clearly been renovated with some money sometime in the last five years.

Someone is speaking to the front desk, in a loud voice that sounds like it’s used to getting what it wants. 

“...were told we had two suites, here, and we arrive here at this honestly depressing place and we only have one? Not good enough! Not to mention, the sheets in our room are disgusting! If we had wanted to stay in a creepy roadside murdershow of a motel we would have checked into the first one we saw off the 101!”

Toni freezes, wondering if she can get past this unseen harpy without somehow being dragged into the conflict, and tosses up how badly she needs to eat. Her stomach rumbles in protest. 

She peeks around the corner, and sees a petite girl with long red hair who is achieving a level of volume that seems inversely proportional to her size as she berates the manager.

She must be one of the other acts – she’s certainly entitled enough – and Toni feels for the poor man. She’d hate to be in the firing line, not cause she couldn’t give as good as she got, but self-centred, bitchy starlets were particularly tiring to be around. 

Then she looks back and searches around for another way out. 

***

“I couldn’t browbeat him into getting another suite, apparently they’re ‘booked out’ or whatever, but I  _ did  _ get him to send housekeeping up soon with nicer sheets, so I’m calling it a win,” Cheryl announces triumphantly, striding back into the suite.

Cheryl often announces things instead of talking normally, and by now Veronica has known her long enough that she doesn’t even look up from where she is lying on her bed, reading.

“Well that’s good,” she says placidly, smiling as she puts down her book. “Did you make him cry?” 

“No, he turned out to be very helpful, after he heard what I had to say.” Cheryl says airily, and Veronica smirks.

“I can imagine. Well, he has my respect,” she replies. It’s probably not morally right to sic Cheryl on unsuspecting business owners and workers, but she definitely gets results. It was their understanding that they would be booked two suites, not one with two double beds, but it’s not a terribly bad room. Not their usual standard, of course, but this was the closest accomodation to the festival grounds, a little out of San Jose proper. And, as their tour manager Dan was fond of reminding them, touring was expensive and if festival promoters offered free, close accommodation as a perk, you took it.

Cheryl flops down on the edge of Veronica’s bed. “I am exhausted. Do they have room service here, or will we be expected to brave the wilds of central San Jose for dinner?” she asks dramatically.

Veronica smirks. “It’s not a small fishing town in Alaska, Cheryl, I’m sure they have a few good restaurants.” Cheryl gives her an unimpressed look. “And I’m sure they do room service here, alright? We can stay right here, and go through our agenda for tomorrow. I know you’re dying to tell me what we’re doing.” 

Cheryl brightens immediately, getting a glint in her eye. It usually means she has a plan she meant to see out, or a difficult but very good idea she’s still working on. You generally wanted to be on the benefitting side of these plans, because woe betide those who weren’t.

“Ok, tomorrow at ten we have an interview with  _ Scratch That _ in one of the media tents - I’ve outlined it on the map we were given -”

****

Betty hauls a guitar case out of the back of the bus, and wipes her forehead. It’s cooled down but even after having lived in Los Angeles nearly three years now, her Chicago-bred bones aren’t used to how Californian summers overstay their welcome into the end of the day, sometimes the night, wrapping humidly around you like a clingy boyfriend.

“Do we really have to lug all this into the hotel?” Reggie complains, pushing his raybans onto his head. He wears the heat better, but he always hated the cold more than they did. Harder to show off all your carefully gym-worked muscles when you’re wearing three layers because it’s fifty five degrees out.

“Only the ones we want to use before tomorrow,” she replies tiredly. 

“When do you think we’ll be famous enough that we can have people carry our shit instead of us?” He grumbles, picking up a case and a bag. 

She sighs deeply. 

“I think we do ok, Reg - plus, people might see you carrying these heavy bags. Hot people. Think about it.” Archie points out, smiling and throwing an arm around Reggie’s shoulders.

Reggie brightens, smiling at a blonde girl walking past the other end of the bus. She smiles back. Archie drops his arm to pick up a bag. 

“You may have a point, Arch. Well, I’m off.” Reggie says with a smirk at him, and heads towards the front doors.

Archie smiles at her. “All good?”

She can’t help smiling, even though she’s still hot, slightly annoyed and tired. The roadies drove the bus up and are resting in their own accomodation - the hotel was generally only for the acts accepting rooms there - after the five hour journey from L.A, which makes the hour-and-a-half hour flight they took from L.A. seem like nothing, but she’d been up since six getting everything ready. Travel days were always exhausting. 

“All good. Just tired,” she says, and he looks at her for a moment like he’s wondering if she’s telling the truth, then looks away, still smiling.

“I’ll need you to keep an eye on him, alright?” she says, as they carry the bags and cases with them. They don’t have many roadies that go with them, but she likes the ones they have and doesn’t want to treat them as servants - so she makes sure they do what they can for themselves. 

Archie laughs. “Really?”

She looks at him. “I don’t mean follow him around and stop him from leaving, just keep an eye, ok? Make sure he doesn’t get too wild. You know what he can be like...just, you know this show is important, right?” She says, feeling exasperation building. 

Archie looks surprised, but nods, keeping her gaze. “Of course I do. I’m  _ always _ in this with you. And so is Reg, really, you know he is.” 

She sighs again, and smiles at him. “Yeah, I know. Let me know when you guys are ready, and we’ll go over stuff for tomorrow.” 

“Awesome,” Archie beams. “We can check out those soundproof practice rooms, tighten a few things up last minute, hey?”

She nods. “Looking forward to it.”

“We’ll be there. Give us half an hour to get unpacked.” He says, dropping his bags at the door to his room, across from hers. The hotel had given her own room, which she appreciated, and was making the boys share. Which she wasn’t sure was a good idea. But they were adults, and her friends, so she left it to them. Whatever it was. 

Having dragged her stuff into her room, she flops down on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. Wishing she could stop feeling tired and irritable. Wishing she didn’t spend all her time with the same two guys. Wishing she could take a break from it all.

 


	2. 6:00-11:00am//arise, awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i finally finished the new chapter! am juggling writing two things, but i'm really enjoying writing this (even though I'm sure it's not exactly the most realistic portrait of how a real music festival/musicians playing there work, but does that really matter?) thanks for the response to the last one, it inspired me to keep up this crazy writing load :)

**6:22am**

 

Sweet Pea wakes early, and scrabbles for his phone on the bedside table. Seeing how early it is, he sighs and leans back into his pillow. It's light out, but only just. Still, he's not getting back to sleep.

He always wakes early when he's somewhere unfamiliar. Some product of an indigent childhood, when he was often dumped with unknown relatives and friends of his mother's - until she came back for him, saying she was clean now, and they moved onto a new place. She liked to say it was an adventure, until he got older and angrier. Her habit made her more erratic, inflamed what was already a shaky grip on her mental health, until he finally got sent by state intervention to live with a relative of hers in Portland. He was 15. She didn't come back.

He glares at the ceiling. He doesn't even know why he's thinking about her. It's too early for that fucking mess. He pushes the blankets off him violently, and grabs some clothes that are already strewn on the floor. Grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, he glances over at the other bed. Fangs is still deep asleep, sprawled over the twin bed with his mouth slightly open. The boy would probably sleep through an alien invasion. Sweet Pea glares at him too, for good measure, and slips out of the room.

He stands with his back to the cool stucco façade of the hotel's exterior, and blows smoke out. It's early enough that's it's still pleasantly cool, but he didn't bring his jacket for a reason. Soon enough, it'll get humid and sticky, and then they'll also be performing. Forget cold showers, he's gonna need an ice bath.

Almost as soon as he's thought this, as if on a very specific and humiliating cue - he sees a tall someone get out of an expensive-looking car that peels messily into the car parking area, blasting some kind of terrible EDM. He's wearing an expensive-looking leather jacket, jeans and a plan white t-shirt, like a Eurasian James Dean, if James Dean looked more like a male model. Sweet Pea instantly feels both a deep scorn and dislike for him, who has to be like all the other pretty, flashy pricks he's ever met who look and act like that; and a horrifying, instant morbid fascination with him.

He scowls more to make up for it.

James Dean pulls some kind of bulky package out of the car, in a plastic bag and looks inside. Sweet Pea tries not to look like he's looking, but sneaks a look across his cigarette curiously. It doesn't look like James Dean is even interested in anyone else, anyway, as he opens his boot and puts it in there.

Sweet Pea looks down at his cigarette, sure he's about to look around. He looks up and internally almost jumps out of his skin to see James walking toward him. Externally he doesn't react, except to exchange a curt nod with him. He almost chokes on a breath out to see James catch his eye, smirk, and nod his head at Sweet Pea's cigarette in one fluid movement. He hadn't been prepared for that. Sweet Pea hates him a little more for that smirk. It's unfair that it makes him look so smug, and yet even more handsome.

James catches up to him. Up close, he looks a bit ragged - hair messier, pupils dilated, dark circles under his tired looking dark eyes. Sweet Pea would put money on him not having slept since yesterday, or very little. He must be one of the acts if he's staying here. Sweet Pea wonders if he's playing today, and how long he has before he has to go on.

"Give us a smoke, bro?" he says, obnoxious in words, but flashing that asshole smile. It makes Sweet Pea want to break something over his head, but oddly, he finds himself slowly reaching for the box as he continues to scowl at him.

Why should I give up one of my cigarettes? He thinks irritably, as he hands one out silently, this  dick can probably afford twenty times my weekly smoke budget. He scowls more as he feels his heart jolt as he leans forward to light it. James smiles, the cigarette rakishly hanging from his lips, but it's a warmer smile and he forgets to hate him for a moment.

"Thanks," James says, blowing smoke in the other direction from him. Sweet Pea nods, doesn't say anything. There is a silence, in which he can hear the sounds of traffic building in the distance and birds chirping.

"Aren't you cold?" James asks after a moment, looking at him curiously. He is confused for a moment until he remembers he's only wearing a t-shirt. He shrugs. "No. It'll be hot soon."

James smirks down at his cigarette, like some private joke. It makes Sweet Pea bristle for some reason. "What?" he asks, probably more sharply than necessary.

James looks surprised, blows smoke out before answering. "Oh, I just like the heat," he says, still smirking, "I'm from Chicago, originally, so…"

"I lived there for a few months when I was a kid. Fucking _cold_." Sweet Pea replies, in spite of himself, and immediately regrets referencing that. He doesn't really talk about his past. Especially not with strangers, for fuck's sake.

"Yeah, I don't miss that," James says conspiratorially, with his ever-present smirk. "Where were you? I grew up around Lincoln Square."

He can't help snorting. Of course he did. He was in Chicago only a few months all up, but at twelve he knew where the nice neighbourhoods were that produced smug rich kids that became smug rich adults who could afford expensive leather jackets and sports-cars.

"You got a problem?" James asks, smirk slipping for the first time.

"No," Sweet Pea says casually. "Don't think I ever went there, though. Bit far from South Side."

Sweet Pea watches his reaction. It's not like he even identifies as being from there, he doesn't have that much of an emotional connection to it but he has endless experience of being the kid from the poor area, and he'll die before he is ashamed of it.

James' eyes flick up and down, like he's appraising him. Sweet Pea stiffens, on the defensive. "Southie, huh? Some of the best musicians we started playing with in the early days were from there. Great bars." James says, smirking like he's remembering something. It's obnoxious.

"I wouldn't know, I was twelve." He says shortly, then his curiosity gets the better of him. "So, you're performing here?"

He definitely sees some kind of irritation pass across James' well-sculpted features. Maybe it's the old standby, _Don't You Even Recognise Me?_ He definitely seems like the type. "Yeah, I'm in Laser Lotus."

James watches his reaction casually, and Sweet Pea enjoys pretending he hasn't heard of them. "Cool. What kind of music do you play?" he says, and takes a drag on his cigarette. It's almost dead.

James looks at him quizzically, like he's sure he's bluffing. Of course he's heard of them, especially since they achieved a hit on the mainstream charts. Didn't go to number one, but it was catchy.

Sweet Pea betrays none of this. "Uh, some kind of intersection of indie-rock and synthpop I guess?" James says, still sounding taken aback. "I play bass. And synths," he says, almost puffing his chest out self-importantly. "And you?"

"Drums," he says briefly.

James smirks, and once again Sweet Pea hates his stupid, ridiculously handsome face. "Yeah, I can see that." He blows smoke out. "I think my friend started playing them just because she had a lot of rage in her. Is it therapeutic?"

Sweet Pea looks at him. "Well it's certainly a workout."

James raises an eyebrow, still smirking. Sweet Pea feels another jolt, though distinctly lower. He  scowls even more. He should leave before he ends up slapping this guy in the face just for the smirking alone.

But instead, his mouth betrays him yet again to ask, "Big night?"

James smirks, and he wonders how anyone can deal with this guy. "Heard about a party, me and my buddy went. Then I wanted to keep going to a bar, but he wimped out and went home. Trying to tell me what to do. He used to be fun." James' smirk slips and he looks down. "Whatever, I'm tired. I need a nap."

Sweet Pea says nothing. "That's a bummer," he says, half-ironically. "I gotta go. See you round."

He stubs out the butt of the cigarette, then goes to leave.

"Drummer boy!" James calls. It gives him another jolt, which is supremely frustrating. He turns back.

James smiles widely at him. "Hope I see you again. When are you on?"

Sweet Pea is taken aback, and blurts out, "10:30, today. Heineken stage."

James smirks even wider, like he's won. "I'll try and get there. If I'm not sleeping." 

 _Asshole_ , he thinks, smirking to himself as soon as he turns around.

***

**8:31 am**

 

Toni feeds a dollar into the vending machine, and waits for her snack to drop. She'd caved and allowed them to order from the room service menu last night, but if they kept doing it for every meal they'd never even have enough money left for the gas to get home.

She has to be the one to keep an eye on the budget, and the one planning the journeys. She's kind of ended up as the most responsible of them, even though she would barely describe herself that way. Certainly her uncle wouldn't. 

Fuck him though, his opinion doesn't matter to her anymore.

She sees a blonde girl coming out of the front doors and does a double take. Before she can say anything, the girl sees her.  She squints and then recognition lights up her face, and she beams. "Toni?"

"Oh my god," she says, grinning. "Betty?"

Having walked over to the vending machines, Betty throws her arms around her enthusiastically. She returns the hug just as enthusiastically.

"How long has it been? Like, two years since I've seen you?" she wonders aloud, still grinning. "I like the haircut!"

Betty laughs and glances down at her hair, just past shoulder-length and wavy, and runs a finger through it almost instinctively. "Yeah, I've had it like this for a while, actually. Felt like I needed a change."

Toni nods meaningfully. "I get that. Suits you, anyway."

Betty gestures at Toni's hair. "Anyway, what about yours? Love the pink! I think it was what - blue last time I saw you? Is the pink a new thing?"

Toni laughs. "Actually, kind of nostalgic. I had this colour for most of high school. I missed it."

Betty keeps beaming at her. "I can't believe you're here! Are you playing?" she laughs, and amends. "I mean, you're here, of course you are - same band, though?"

Toni nods, grinning. "Yeah, same dorks. Can't imagine being here without them. Honestly, it's kind of a miracle we're here at all."

Betty's smile takes on something guilty. "I'm sorry I've been out of touch for a while. I can't believe I didn't even know you guys were on the bill, that's so amazing!"

Toni smirks. "It's alright, I gather you've had a big year or two? That song is pretty catchy, I gotta say."

Betty shakes her head, colouring slightly. "We've been very lucky. It's been fucking hectic, though. Lots of traveling."

Toni sighs. "I feel that. We've been doing a lot of gigs - mainly closer to Portland, but we try to get there if the opportunity is good. I freaked when I got told we'd gotten booked here, we've only really played small local festivals." She half-laughs, "We're kind of underground, at the moment. Not like you."

Betty nods understandingly. "I'm still getting used to it, it's weird. This is our second album and it's like people are only just starting to hear us. L.A's been good for it, I guess."

Toni shakes her head, smirking. "I think...I wouldn't like LA. I would fucking hate to live in this heat all the time."

Betty laughs. "I know, ugh! But you get used to it. You should definitely visit when you can." She smiles and then her eyes go wide. "Oh my god, how have I been talking about me the whole time, and I haven't asked you when you're going on?"

Toni laughs. "We have an early slot, and it's a small stage. Not that I'm complaining, happy to have it."

"When and where? Hopefully I can come for a bit. Maybe even bring the guys?" Betty insists.

Toni hopes she's not just saying that to be nice. As much as she wouldn't do it deliberately, she also knows Betty has problem with people-pleasing behaviour.

Inspite of that, she finds herself saying she'd like that. "We're 10:30 at the Heineken stage. Don't feel like you have to."

"I'm absolutely there. I might even get the boys to come. We might have to rush off after though, depends." Betty says determinedly.

"Oh are you on today? When? We'll have to repay the favour!" she asks.

Betty's eyes cloud a little, then go back to their usual brightness. "Uh, 4pm, North stage. You can totally hang backstage with us after if you want. I'd love to catch up more!"

Toni nods, smiling. "We'll be there. Well I will - not sure I can make the boys do anything if they don't want too."

Betty arches an eyebrow slightly. "With you, I'm not sure I believe that."

Toni laughs.

***

 

**9:03am**

 

Archie is writing some chords down when he hears knocking on the door. There's only one person he knows who knocks in such an aggressively type-A manner, especially if she's annoyed.

She always seems kind of annoyed right now, even when she says she's ok. And a big part of it is probably Reggie, and definitely sometimes him, but he wishes sometimes he could read her mind. She doesn't share her thoughts with him as easily as she used to when they were kids. He kind of misses it.

Not to mention, he's pretty sure he knows why she's mad - if she is.

He opens the door with what he hopes is a winning grin. "Morning, Betty. Sleep well? These beds are actually way more comfortable than I -"

She looks at him suspiciously. "So, you both slept here last night?"

He keeps smiling at her. "Yeah, of course we did. Although not together. Obviously," he chuckles, slightly nervously. "Just got our rest before today."

"So he didn't go out last night?" she asks carefully, looking at him. She's worse than a cop when she's on the scent of something. He feels like he's starting to sweat.

"No," he says quickly, and she raises an eyebrow.

"No? I didn't see his car pull out last night?" she asks.

"I mean yeah, but briefly. We were back at a reasonable hour. I went with him, like you asked," he amends, waiting for her reaction.

She nods. "I appreciate that. So, you went to bed pretty much after you got back?" she asks innocently.

He nods, hedging. "Yeep."

"So that wasn't his car I also heard tear in at six this morning, then? And you're going to tell me he's totally awake, but just in the shower?" she says, raising a dramatic eyebrow. " _J'accuse,_ Andrews!"

He cringes. "C'mon, don't yell at me in French, you know I can't understand when you do it," he says, attempting a sheepish grin. Her mother - a terrifying, yet oddly attractive woman in her own right - had moved to Chicago from Montreal when she was young and had largely lost the accent, but apparently did the same when she was angry at her daughters, or then-husband. Which had been often.

She is not placated. "What happened? I asked you to keep an eye!"

He throws up his hands defensively. "I tried! He didn't want to come back, and I couldn't force him!" he says, and drops his voice. "You know he's stubborn as hell. He might have stayed out just to spite me."

She shakes her head. "He better be up soon. He's already in _deep_ shit with me."

"I'll let him know," Archie tries. "He'll be up soon, though, promise."

"I'm up now, _Mom._ " Reggie says, from behind Archie's shoulder, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Jeez."

"And I truly appreciate the effort, Reg," Betty replies, in a fake-sweet tone.

Archie flicks a glance at Reggie, and sees him roll his eyes. He's always kind of been kind of cocky and often an asshole, but recently it's felt like he's trying to make the national team at the asshole Olympics.

"Anyway, I'm just wondering if you guys are keen to go see a band with me this morning? I bumped into an old friend downstairs, and she invited me to watch her set. If you're not too hungover."

Archie winces internally, seeing Reggie's scowl. "I don't want to pity watch someone's crappy band because you feel guilty, Betty."

"Come on, Reg," Archie says, feeling the conversation slipping away into sniping. It was getting to be like this a lot, and Archie did not like it at all. They were supposed to be best friends, for god's sake! For the past ten years at least.

"Which friend?" he asks, trying to break the tension.

"You don't know her - It was when I was doing that work experience thing at the label in Portland, like four years ago?" she says, half-smiling.

"That girl you kept in touch with? She's playing here?" he asks, surprised.

She nods, starting to smile more. "Yeah, she's pretty great - matter of time before she breaks into the big time, she's talented as all hell."

Archie can't help smiling, even though he doesn't know her. "Sounds cool. I'm in. What time and where?"

"10:30, at the Heineken stage."

Archie senses a reaction in Reggie before he sees it, small as it is. He looks very briefly surprised then adopts a casual expression.

"I - I uh, might have been just being a dick about the band before. Sorry. I'm happy to go, actually." Reggie says contritely, and had he not known him for a very long time he might a hundred percent buy it.

Betty seems to have had the same thought, looking at him scrutinisngly. "You...wanna go now? What changed your mind?"

He shrugs. "You guys are going. I'm not going to throw a tantrum because I was pissed at you that one moment."

She looks at him quizzically, then seems to accept it. "That's...nice" she says slowly, and he appreciates her not adding 'for a change' at the end. "Well the more the merrier. Thanks, Reg."

Reggie nods casually. "No prob." 

"Come get us when you're ready, then," Archie tells her, grateful for this potential fight to be averted.

 

***

**10:19am**

 

Toni looks around, abandoning the pretence that her guitar needs any more tuning.

It's not good.

Jughead is pacing, and frowning.

Sweet Pea is sprawled across the backstage couch, drumming a beat anxiously on his knees.

Fangs is fixing his hair in the mirror - rather ineffectually, as he finished doing it ten minutes ago - and looking paler than usual.

"Ok, band meeting," she calls. When they don't respond, she says louder, "You idiots deaf? Band meeting, now!"

This gets their attention, and they turn to look at her.

It's not that she's not nervous - she can't think of a time maybe other than before their first actual gig that she's felt this much pre-show anxiety - but she needs to stop this before it gets any worse.

"Look, I know that we're feeling it a bit - " she begins.

"I shouldn't have looked at the crowd. Have we ever played a crowd this size?" Fangs cuts her off anxiously.

"Nope. This is definitely the biggest." Jughead replies morosely. She shoots him a warning look.

"Uuugh." Sweet Pea puts in irritably, still absent-mindedly tapping. "Why did we do this? We're not festival people."

"Guys, come _on._ We have been in so much _worse_ and _scarier_ situations, for fuck's sake! This is not scary. This an opportunity!" she says, trying to sound rousing.

The boys still look alternately anxious and pissed off.  It's making her a little annoyed. It's not like they haven't been this nervous to play a show before.

"Also, if you fucksticks ruin all the work I put into getting us this gig, I will personally disembowel every one of you, I promise," she says darkly, but she's not serious. Well, maybe like twenty-five percent. Thirty.

The threat seems to snap them out of it, maybe because it feels like it could be any other practice in their old tiny practice room. Sweet Pea stops drumming and smirks, and Jughead nods, looking more relaxed.

"You've got this, Fangs. Best frontman I know," she says to him, smirking too now. "I can't do this without you, bud." The 'bud' is half-ironic, but it makes him smile, finally and he nods.

"Yeah. Fuck it, we've done scarier gigs than this, even with less people. Remember that place that was just like drunk people throwing shit at us? We went on at like eleven-thirty?" he says, smiling ruefully.

"The Irish bar?" Jughead asks, frowning like he's only just remembering it now.

"In Mill Park? Christ, I still have that scar," Sweet Pea reminisces too, smiling though.

She can't help rolling her eyes at him. "It was _barely_ a scar, Pea," He flips her the bird. "Anyway, exactly, this place is _easy_ next to that. So far, no one has attempted to follow me into the ladies, so that's already a plus."

Fangs nods at her sympathetically. He had been ready to beat the guy out, but she'd got there first.

She looks around at them. "You ready then?"

Jughead straightens his hat resolutely. "Let's do this."

 

***

 

**10:42am**

“So we’ve talked about the upcoming album, _so_ exciting,” the journalist says brightly, but with a smile a little too full of teeth to be totally genuine.

“Yes, we can’t wait,” Veronica says smoothly, beaming.

“So, your second full-length album is on the way – but you two were working together before that, right?” the journalist asks, still smiling. “How did you get started?”

Veronica looks at Cheryl, and they share a slight smirk, like an inside joke no journalist will ever be privy to.

“Well, we both met at Julliard, but we were originally studying different disciplines,” Veronica explains. “I had theatre grounding, but I was moving into musical theatre work, and you were in the music program, right?” she says, throwing to Cheryl with experienced ease. Even if they hadn’t had professional media training to prepare them for their careers, it’s not like they would have been unfamiliar with how to present publicly. Not with their families.

 “Yes, music – more specifically, singing/performance, which is honestly the most _amazing_ program.” Cheryl laughs tinklingly. The journalist simpers, and Veronica fights the urge to roll her eyes at her. “But it wasn’t really till, what, second year that we started singing together, right Ronnie?” she asks, serving back to Veronica easily with a reminiscent glint in her eye.

Veronica smiles widely, thinking about it. “Yeah, I was kind of torn between things. She had to convince me to focus on singing.”

Cheryl giggles lightly. “As I remember, you campaigned me a fair bit too,”

Veronica laughs at this, and then looks back at the journalist. She’s smiling at their banter, nicely. Maybe she’s just cynical, and the woman doesn’t have any fakery going on here. Or not that much.

“Your families seem to run in the same circles, though, your fathers’ companies have publicly worked together for years – I’m surprised you say you only met in college? You never met each other before that?” the woman says, in genuine and reasonable confusion.

 It almost seems completely real, Veronica thinks, disregarding her previous thoughts. She has a sense for sniffing out bullshit, perhaps gifted from her parents. This was somewhat ironic, as they were often full of it.

Cheryl looks at her, still smiling, but her eyes betray a warning. Veronica returns her look with one that says ‘ _We’ve got this - Don’t worry_ ,’ not losing her smile for a moment.

“Well, of course we knew each other from events both our families attended or hosted, but we were quite young and at the time, really – it was more a business relationship that we weren’t exactly a part of. We attended different schools up ‘til Juilliard, so I kind of feel like I ‘met’ Cheryl for the first time there.” Veronica recovers in a fluid, confident sweep.

 “The various charity events and business functions of our childhoods are just not something we want to bore you, or our fans with, by talking about it.” Cheryl says, sweet as icing sugar but with an implicit reproach.

The woman seems momentarily taken aback, and then recovers with a jovial smile. “Of course, of course. I guess you became friends pretty quickly once you were in the same school, then?”

Cheryl continues to look like, as her abuela Luciana used to say, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Which was a weird saying that Veronica didn’t totally understand, but she often used to use it to describe Veronica when she’d done something bad and was feigning innocence, or was planning to do something bad.

“We’ve always had a lot in common, so it was easy for us to become close.” Cheryl replies, looking at her warmly. “I really met my best friend that year.”

Veronica returns the smile, sharing that private-joke look with her again. Cheryl’s got to be dying for this interview to be over, and they can’t even relax till their set finishes up late tonight.

She doesn’t register the danger of the woman’s honey-dipped tone, forming the next comment with false sincerity, until it’s too late.

“That’s so lovely. After all, you’d only just lost your other best friend…”

*

_7 Years Ago_

_Veronica sees her for the first time in months since the accident, at the Gala for Lupus Awareness. Or is it for Canine Diabetes? It really doesn’t matter._

_It’s a black-tie event, but she’s certain that Cheryl Blossom is wearing black to make a statement, like a Victorian widow in mourning. How very like her. It doesn’t help the nasty rumours that circulated about her and Jason, the kind her friends used to spread and laugh about. “It’s like she thinks they’re married,” Nick St Clair sniggered once, like he hadn’t probably come from stock that was a little inbred. Like any of the old dynasties they belonged too, and it wasn’t true anyway, she didn’t think. She had laughed along with him, but she’d felt bad about it later. Cheryl had never seemed comfortable around anyone but her brother – not shy, but there was something strange and unsettling about her, like a thousand-year old immortal creature trapped in the body of a petite teenage girl._

_Her parents had urged her to go over and say something. “You’re so good at comforting people, mija. You always know what to say,” her mother had said silkily, and she would love to think it had been out of concern as a mother and not for the business._

_Cheryl’s parents have abandoned her, because of course they have. They never made it much of a secret who they were grooming to take over the syrup-forest industry, and who they thought of as little more than a party-girl socialite who they had to find yet another boarding school for._

_She follows her outside. “Hey, Cheryl,” she says, quietly._

_Cheryl looks through her black fascinator at her with sharp eyes. “Spare me the famous Lodge ‘pity’, God.”_

_“I’m not –“ she protests. “I’m just – I wanted to say I’m sorry. About Jason.”_

_Cheryl scowls, and her eyes glint in the fairy lights draped prettily in the trees around them. She looks directly at Veronica. “I meant it. Don’t pretend like you were friends with either of us, Lodge.”_

_Veronica wants to deny it, but it’s true. She barely knew them. They were the ginger ‘shining’-esque twins she found creepy as an only child at ten; then the obnoxious golden boy who was always trying to hit on her, and his bratty sister who was always complaining at fourteen; and then he’d died at seventeen, primed for the throne he’d never sit on. She couldn’t pretend she had more than a general compassion over his death, as she did for any death she heard about._

_“Thought so.” Cheryl snipes, icily, and storms off._

_*_

_6 Years Ago_

_“You got in here?”_

_“What, like it’s hard?”_

_Veronica has an Elle Woods moment in reaction to Cheryl’s apparent confusion that she could possibly be an attractive applicant to a performing arts college, with her talent, looks and family connections. But whatever people might say about that last thing, she knew she deserved to be here – it wasn’t like Hollywood was suddenly overflowing with main roles for Latina actresses, and she intended to change that. To create them if necessary. Not to mention, her musical talent, that she’d been honing for the past decade. She wasn’t one for false modesty._

_“Like your family didn’t pull a few strings to get you in here, Cheryl. You wanna go there?” she snipes. Cheryl has made it clear on every occasion that they are not friends, and any sympathy she once felt for her has pretty much dissipated._

_Cheryl pales but shoots her a withering look. “Yeah, maybe Daddy dearest cares enough about your dreams to pay for a few new classrooms here, but you think Clifford Blossom has the time?” she says, and then seemingly can’t help adding in a bitter undertone, “Or cares.”_

_Veronica doesn’t know what to say to that. “Whatever. I doubt we’ll have many classes overlap. We don’t have to see each other.”_

_“Whatever.” Cheryl says, but this time Veronica gets to walk off first._

_*_

_The strangest thing is that they see each other, around, and it starts out like she would expect – then suddenly, the fight goes out of it. They’re not friends, they don’t run in the same social circles – but a kind of begrudging respect emerges for each other, and the work they put in._

_Not that Cheryl seems to have many friends, still. She has collaborators, and people she can order around – but her intensity doesn’t seem to make for someone any of these people would want to hang out with. Veronica knows she’s intense, sometimes, but she tries to make up for it with charm and charisma. It’s been working for her so far._

_Sometimes they see each other in the hallways and Cheryl might even smile back. That seems like a big victory to her._

_She never sees Cheryl’s parents at showcases. That’s not a surprise, but it begins to hurt a little when she realises that Cheryl has no one to come see her. Her mom usually comes, and sometimes even her dad, too. They love her, even if they’re not always good at showing it. Even if they’re pretty bad at most other parental aspects._

_It’s snowing when she bumps into Cheryl, and realises her eyes look a little red. It must be from the cold though. Cheryl never cries._

_“Oh, hey Lodge. How are you?” she says, falsely bright and Veronica is immediately suspicious. Cheryl doesn’t do small talk. And she definitely doesn’t care to hear about anyone’s feelings from day to day._

_“Good…” Veronica pauses, although she’s shivering and desperate to get inside. Cheryl’s white beret is cute, but only distracts so much from her eyes, which look very red, now she’s looking. “Cheryl, I know you’ll probably hate me asking this, but are you ok?”_

_Cheryl looks stunned, like she genuinely can’t believe what she’s hearing. It makes her heart hurt to think about it too much._

_Veronica’s never seen her quite so unsure and vulnerable. “Uh, yeah –“ she stutters out, but even as she says it her eyes well up again, and her composure crumbles._

_Veronica hesitates, then rushes forward to allow her a shoulder to cry on, and the dignity of not being seen crying in front of any of the passers-by. It turns out to be the right choice – Cheryl leans into the embrace, snuffling into her shoulder and Veronica decides she can always have this coat dry-cleaned. Plus, it’s out of season._

_“What’s wrong?” she asks, when Cheryl’s got a hold of herself again.  The thought passes through her mind that she hopes it can be explained quickly, or that she can wait till they’re inside._

_“It’s the twenty-fifth of November.” Cheryl sniffs miserably._

_Veronica looks at her in what she hopes is a supportive manner, but cannot think of what this means._

_“My birthday,” she explains, a little impetuously. Veronica forgives it, when she realises the implications._

_“And Jason’s,” she breathes._

_Cheryl nods, looking pale, cold and miserable. “We used to spend it together. Because no one else would want to spend it with someone like me, right?” she says bitterly. “Not even my parents.”_

_Veronica’s heart goes out to her, in all her tragic, beautiful oddness. “I’m currently freezing, so we should get out of the cold – but inside I’ve got some bottles of wine I swiped from my father’s wine cellar, and I was going to watch Clueless and drink till I feel warm, if you wanna come?”_

_Cheryl’s face is briefly lit up, with pure gratitude, then suspicious. “You’re not doing this because you feel sorry for me, are you?”_

_Veronica smirks. “Of course I feel sorry for you, you’re in the snow and you’re crying.” Cheryl frowns. “But you’re also very cool, and talented, and I like you. And I think you could use a friend, alright?”_

_Cheryl smiles, shaky but an echo of her usual confident self. “Let’s get inside then. I’m fucking freezing.”_

***

“…lost your other best friend…”

Veronica has to grab Cheryl’s arm very quickly to stop her getting up. She looks pale with supressed anger.

The journalist still has her fake-sympathetic face on.

“I understand that you need some interesting soundbites, Jennifer,” Veronica says, using her best impression of the voice her father uses with business enemies he needs something from – smiling, personable but with no true warmth. An implied coldness, the kind you only feel later when you think about the words. “But we really have been asked a lot about family affairs, and that’s not relevant to our music. That issue is very personal, and we aren’t going to talk about it. But we are happy to keep talking about the music.” Cheryl squeezes her hand a little hard in protest and she squeezes back just as hard. As much as she’d love to tell this woman to fuck right off, it’s something of an important magazine, and the interview needs to turn out well. As her father always says, never let them see you get angry.

Jennifer the journalist stares at her for a moment, pensively. “Of course. It’s my job to find the story, but I overstepped. I’m very sorry,” she admits, looking repentant.

Veronica doesn’t trust it, but she smiles gracefully, and then squeezes Cheryl’s hand until she begrudgingly nods at the woman.

They finish the interview civilly, although Cheryl barely says a word. Veronica keeps holding her hand in support, wishing they could storm out. Their manager would have a fit, though.

When it finally ends, they’re ushered out of the tent. Veronica watches the woman go, looking markedly less contrite as she chats to her assistant.

“Can you believe the nerve on that woman?” Cheryl bursts out. Veronica is aware that this could turn into a fit of rage, and attempts to contain it. It’s not a good look for the punters.

“She was the _worst.”_ Veronica agrees sympathetically, trying to steer her in the right direction without touching her. “Why don’t we go back to our room, have a rest, get ready?”

Cheryl isn’t listening to her. “Talking about _that_ …how dare she…I swear to God, she is _finished_ …I don’t care who she works for, I’m going to fucking _destroy_ her...you don’t disrespect the Blossoms and get away it…” she seethes, pacing.

This is worse than Veronica thought – the blow up is imminent. She tries to grab her hand, as a sympathetic gesture but also to stop her pacing. Cheryl sees through this, and turns her glare on Veronica.

“Come on, let’s go back,” she says, trying to be soothing. Cheryl wrenches her hand away. “No, I don’t want – “ she says recklessly and whirls around, joining a group of people entering a crowd at the stage nearest the media tent.

“Cheryl, don’t –” Veronica sighs and goes after her. She’s learnt to love a lot of Cheryl’s idiosyncrasies, but this isn’t one. It’s like dealing with a fussy toddler sometimes. At least the tantrums are much less frequent now.

Not looking where she’s going at the edge of the crowd, she bumps into someone and immediately goes to apologise. “I’m so sor –”

The blonde girl she’s bumped into is standing next to a pink-haired girl with dark skin. 

“Veronica?”

She looks closer at the blonde girl, and recognises her with a jolt.

“Betty?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll learn the name of Cheryl and Veronica's girlband soon, I quite like it. If you thought the Archie-Betty-Reggie band name was some kind of vaguely familiar reference to Community, you're totally right! But also I just like the contrast in the name, and how it sounds. 
> 
> Very excited to get into more, hope you enjoyed this one!


	3. 10:30-11:45//one crowded hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i'm back! i try to keep up a steady writing pace, but life and the fact i can't write short chapters get in the way. ah well, enjoy!

**10:30 am**

The crowd waits, with a few scattered cheers. Enough to have maybe come to the stage specifically to see the band, as opposed to the majority of the crowd – who are here maybe because they got here too early and need to kill time, or read about them on the website and thought they sounded interesting, and those who are actively seeking to find the next indie band no-one’s heard of yet so they can brag about seeing them to their friends should they get famous.

Jughead nods at Fangs, who grins. He takes the microphone. “Good morning, San Jose, thanks _very_ much for coming here to see us. If you didn’t already know, we are _Jughead’s Revenge_ ,” he says, stretching the last words out with a lazy, confident drawl. He’s so confident at this bit, you’d never suspect he was previously freaking out back stage. “We’re from Portland, but we are loving it here, in this very chill state. Well, metaphorically chill. We are not dealing with the heat well.” A small ripple of laughs. This seems to be a nicer crowd than the dive bar set. Or maybe they’re just high enough to go with it.

“Any Oregonians out there?” Toni calls, into her mike. “Make some noise!”

The crowd obeys with a surprising amount of cheers. Toni has the same sort of power over them as Fangs, where they know just how to get an audience to work with them. It’s probably also to do with being ridiculously good-looking, too.

**10:52am**

They’ve got something worked out, Betty thinks, grinning as she watches the stage from the side of the crowd. It’s not totally polished and produced, but they’ve got a raw, rambunctious energy in them that she’s loving. Not to mention, the crowd seems to be too.

She turns to Archie. “What did I tell you? Toni’s _so_ good, she deserves to be heard!”

Archie’s staring at her, entranced. “Yeah she’s…good,” he replies.

She shakes her head at him but he’s not looking at her. Well, that’s not something that’s going to happen. Honestly, he’s like a magpie, constantly distracted by anything shiny that crosses his field of vision. It was annoying in high school, for other reasons, and now it’s just annoying when it involves friends of hers. Between him and Reggie, it’s not surprising she has so few friends who are girls. Or many friends outside of the band at all.

“Rule 3?” she says nonchalantly, and hopes he can hear her over the music.

 She can tell he did, because he gives her a sceptical look. “I _know._ ”

“Thankyou, Arch,” she says, grinning and giving him a nudge. He can’t help grinning too.

The band has got their look worked out – a sort of 90s grunge look, leather and denim and the occasional plaid flannel, similar enough to look like a unit but obviously unstyled enough to look real. It shouldn’t work as well as it does on them.

Reggie looks like he’s actually enjoying it too, and she wonders who it is he’s smirking at. Honestly, both Toni and the other vocalist are probably his type. Not that she would allow Reggie to hit on Toni, either, but she has no problem with the other. Hell, she doesn’t really go for guys like him, but she has to admit he’s very pretty. And those _arms._

The crowd – including the three of them – applauds pretty loudly when they finish their set, and Betty sends a congratulatory text to Toni, not sure if they’ll be out anytime soon.

She turns to the boys. “Was I right, or was I right?” she says, jokingly, but they look genuinely pleased.

Reggie smirks. “You know I hate to say it, but you were – and I’m not even really a grunge/punk kind of guy. Are we going to catch up with them? We’ve got a few hours before our set.”

Archie tries not to look too excited. “Yeah, I mean, that’s your friend, we could go say hi for a bit if you wanted?”

She weighs the options. On one hand, she knows exactly why they’re so keen – and she’s not introducing them to another friend of hers just so they can hit on her – but then again, maybe she’s being unfair. And it would be awesome to tetll the band in person how great they were, actually meet the guys she’s heard a lot about.

“I’m not even sure they’ll have time, anyway,” she says, just as her phone buzzes. Reggie raises his eyebrows expectantly. She beams. “Toni wants us to come backstage,” she says, making them both grin. “But please just try _not_ to embarrass us all?” she adds casually.

They have the gall to look offended.

“How would we-“

“When have we _ever –_ “

She silences them with one hell of an unimpressed look. “I’m sure you don’t need the list? Vancouver, London, San Francisco in that deli -”

Archie nods quickly. “Yep, fair, get it. But I don’t know what you’re worried about, we’re much more mature now -” He says, and looks for conformation from Reggie, who is currently making a face at her.

“Ok, we’ll be good.” He says with a sigh, elbowing Reggie in the ribs.

“Ow, alright,” Reggie adds.

***

“So just be cool, ok?” Toni says quickly, still pumped from the performance. She had barely expected it to go that well, and had been so thrilled that Betty and her band had actually come to their small stage concert, had been so excited they’d seen it go that well, that she’d invited them to hang out backstage.

And then she’d remembered she was trying to introduce new people to her very insular bandmates. It didn’t usually go well.

“What does that even mean?” Jughead retorts.

She gives him a look. “You know what it means. No lecturing anyone on film theory. Or obscure music history. Just, no lecturing period.”

“That was one – ok, maybe two – no more than three times!” he protests.

Sweet Pea sniggers and Jughead throws a cushion at him.

She turns on him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. No getting into fights, physical or verbal. No deciding you hate someone because of their hair, or their accessories, or their voice –“

He scowls at her. “Whose hair is _that_ blonde? And his teeth were infuriatingly white! I don’t regret punching him in them!” he gripes. “Also, you know I can’t stand republicans.”

“Yeah neither can I, but maybe either way just don’t talk about politics with them?” she says, hoping this is obvious. She’s fine for a political debate in some settings, but this really isn’t one.

She tries for her most persuasive look, at him. “Look, if we can just get through this without any punches being thrown I’d appreciate it, alright?”

"Why aren't you telling Fangs this?" Sweet Pea asks indignantly.

"Yeah, he fights too!" Jughead agrees, pointing at her dramatically with the pen in his hand.

"Hey!" protests Fangs, sounding slightly hurt.

"Because he's usually the one getting your skinny asses out of trouble, not into it," she points out, beaming at Fangs.

"Thankyou, Toni. At least you appreciate it," Fangs says, smiling beatifically. He ducks the incoming pen and drumstick without missing a beat.

***

Toni comes out, looking exhilarated and Betty immediately hugs her.

"Oh my god, you were so good!" she says, in a voice that only just manages not to be a squeal.

"Thanks, I'm just glad you saw a good show of ours!" Toni laughs, and then seems to remember there are people with Betty.

She turns back to them, standing between them and Toni.

"These are the guys - Archie," who smiles warmly at Toni, "and Reggie," who nods at her with his usual smirk.

"Nice to finally meet you," Toni replies with her own guarded smirk. It's the kind she used to wear when Betty first met her - cool, interesting, betraying nothing. "I've heard a lot about you."

“Hopefully nothing too bad, then,” Archie replies with a grin.

“Well, nothing that bad,” Toni replies, smirking more. “Come with me then, guys.”

 _This is not boding well,_ Betty thinks, and makes sure to walk with Toni .

***

 

**11:00am**

Despite her worries, it was actually going fairly well. Betty’s friends really weren’t the same kind of guys as her friends, but Toni had known that before she had met them. It had been slightly awkward on the moment of introduction – people often took offence to Sweet Pea’s expression on meeting new people, and they seemed like the kind of guys who would. And Jug could definitely seem cold and condescending when you didn’t know him. And sometimes when you did, but at least you could call that out and he’d listen. But surprisingly, mostly everyone had behaved themselves and were now talking with each other.

“So, do you have any embarrassing stories about when you worked with Tone? She is _very hard_ to find embarrassing dirt on,” Fangs jokes to Betty.

Betty laughs. “I’m not surprised. And no, none that I can think of?”

She looks at Toni conspiratorially, grinning. “And if I did, I would have to keep them to myself. Girl code, you know?”

Fangs sighs in mock frustration. “One day, I’m going to crack this nut. All I have are pictures of us from early high school, and honestly that’s kind of a mutually assured destruction thing, so...”

Betty laughs. “I know that feeling. I’m forever afraid someone will find some of my freshman year photos and post them online if we get more well-known. It _would not_ be good.”

“Yeah, I’m very strict about my old social media photos, I totally had to do a purge. There were some _baaad_ myspace selfies, and I couldn’t let this nerd find them,” Toni smirks, nudging Fang’s ribs.

He shakes his head in mock-disgust. “You wouldn’t let _me,_ your second-oldest friend in the world see these for posterity, and ridicule purposes? _Un-believable._ ”

She laughs, and runs a hand through her hair. “God, it’s hot though. You guys wanna get a cold drink?”

“I’m in, but are we ok to leave them?” Betty asks.

Fangs looks over at Sweet Pea, who is talking to the two guys. Toni wonders where Jughead’s hiding. “I think I’d better stay. Maybe check on Jug,” he says.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Well, let them know where we are. We won’t be long.” Toni tells him. “Make sure he’s not sulking, alright?”

Fangs grins. “Yeah, I know. I’m sure he’s close by, though.”

***

 

**11:15am**

Archie looks over and notices the girls are gone. He glances at his watch and wonders how long they’ve been gone. Surely, Betty would have told them if she was going to go somewhere else? And they haven’t made any concrete plans for when to meet up before they need to get to their stage before their set.

He looks at Reggie. “Do you know where the girls went?”

Reggie looks mildly surprised to see them gone. “I didn’t see them leave. Did you?” he addresses the tall guy with the weird nickname they’ve been talking to. Well, they all seem to have weird nicknames. Maybe it’s a band thing, except Toni doesn’t seem to have one. This guy seems to have one of those ironic nicknames like in an old gangster movie, something that you’d never guess by looking at him. Baby Face? – No, Sweet Face – Sweet Pea! He decided against asking how he got it, as he’s already been getting a guarded, less than friendly vibe from him.

Sweet Pea thinks for a moment, not seeming too bothered. “I think I saw them here definitely about twenty minutes ago? Maybe even less,” he drawls.

Archie frowns, and turns to Reggie. “I don’t know why she wouldn’t at least let us know if she was gonna be gone for a while.”

Reggie shrugs. “You know she’ll tell us where we have to be. That’s what she does best, Arch.”

He’s not relaxed by this. “I think I’ll call her just to be sure, alright?”

Reggie shrugs. “Ok, whatever.”

“Glad you’re so chill, Reg. Just remember, we have to be at the soundcheck by 3:30pm?” He replies, slightly annoyed. Especially because _Sweet Pea_ is smirking.

“We’ll be there, jeez.” Reggie brushes him off. He returns Reggie’s irritable look, and walks off.

As he rounds a corner away from where they were standing, he listens to her phone ring but she doesn’t pick up. As he’s about to send her a text, he notices someone vaguely familiar looking hunched up as he scribbles in a notebook.

Its Toni’s skinny, beanie-wearing hipster bassist – who had stayed for the introductions, been civil but not overly friendly and had then, disappeared. Archie makes to say something to him, and realises he’s completely forgotten his name. He really needs to be better at this. But Betty usually reminds him of names after they meet new people. It’s probably a sign he needs to stop letting her remember things for him, given the fact he’s pretty squarely an adult now.

“Hey,” he ends up saying, hoping it doesn’t sound too obvious that he’s forgotten the guy’s name. “Did you see my friend Betty come this way? Probably with your friend, Toni?”

He looks up from the book, with a contemptuous and direct gaze. “Believe me, she’s not interested in you. You’re not really her type.”

For a moment, he’s confused, wondering why this random stranger to them both would say that about Betty. Then he realises, of course, that he’s referring to his own friend.

“Why is everyone so sure I’m going to hit on her?” he exclaims, getting sidetracked in his indignation.

 Beanie doesn’t seem very convinced. “Probably because they have eyes. I saw how you were looking at her, ok; I’ve seen it a lot. I’m just trying to save you some time.”

“What, are you her boyfriend, then?” he can’t help retorting.

Beanie makes an incredulous noise. “No, just her friend? What does it matter to _you_ , if you’re not interested?”

“I’m not – that’s – “ he finds himself spluttering and shakes his head in frustration. “That’s not the point – have you seen her, or not?” he snaps/

Beanie glares at him.

“I promise, I’m not using this information so I can go chat up your bandmate, alright? Actually, I need to know where mine is so we can all be at our set on time,” he says, attempting a calmer tone. “She’s not answering her phone.”

Beanie sighs long sufferingly. “I haven’t seen them, but when Fangs came past before to find me, he said they were headed off to get a drink at the beer tent near here.”

“Thankyou,” he says, relieved. “Where is that?”

Beanie looks at him disbelievingly. “You don’t have the map, then?”

“Well, Betty has the one we were using,” he replies, feeling suddenly sheepish at having to explain this. “I’ll figure it out.”

Beanie half-smiles, surprisingly, still looking disbelieving. “No, I’ll take you. I’ve got to ask Toni about something anyway. And this way, I can see you keep your promise,” he says wryly.

“Thanks...I guess?” he says, confused.

Beanie just looks at him, and shakes his head. “Don’t mention it.”

***

 

**11:05am**

“Betty?”

“Veronica?”

She stops dead, just as Toni and her are making their way out of the crowd of people still mulling about near the Heineken Stage. They can both blend in pretty well – lead singers tend to be most well known, but Toni’s not famous enough to have anyone mob her yet.

She wonders for a second, what Veronica’s doing here, in front of her. Then her rational brain kicks in, and reasons that she’s obviously performing here. She should have known that already – it’s not like she wasn’t aware that she’d become quite famous since.

She looks good. Well, she did before but it’s almost disorienting to see her again, in the flesh. Like seeing something you thought you dreamed.

Veronica looks pleasantly surprised. “Wow, you look – different. I like it.”

Her hand automatically goes to her hair, suddenly self-concious. "Yeah, I uh, cut it a while ago."

Veronica beams at her. "It looks great on you! Very transforming, I almost didn't recognise you without your ponytail."

Betty laughs, slightly awkwardly. "Yeah. Hard to forget what you look like, though," she says, and then wishes the ground would swallow her up right here.

She looks to the side and guiltily realises she hasn't introduced Toni - but she'd kind of been in a shock-induced brain fog, so that was to blame. She sends her a quick apologetic look and attempts to introduce her.

Veronica beats her to the punch. "I'm so sorry, I've been rude and not introduced myself to your friend," she says warmly, looking at Toni. "Veronica Lodge. Love the pink, girl," she says, extending a hand.

Coming from anyone else like her, it could easily sound false and ingratiating, or worse, mocking. She had this power though, that she could make you believe she was sincere, that she was your friend, even from your first meeting of her.

Toni looks at her with vague suspicion, but smiles at her anyway, and shakes her hand. "Thanks, I'm Toni."

The phone in Veronica's hand suddenly buzzes and rings loudly. Startled, she looks down and sighs. "Can you give me a second? I have to get this,"

Betty nods, but sees Toni side-eye her, smirking.

"Ok, where are you?" Veronica asks calmly, like she's had this conversation a lot before. "No, I ran into someone I know. Well, are you ok now?"

She's making sure to talk patiently, but her eyebrows tell a different story. Betty wonders if she'd be more obviously annoyed if they weren't here.

"Ok, I haven't gone far from the media tent. I'm at the edge of the stage area. See you soon." Veronica hangs up with a sigh. She smiles apologetically at them.

"My bandmate's kind of...highly strung." Veronica explains. Betty would wager she's being generous in her word choice. "She's been through some stuff, she just feels emotions quite deeply sometimes."

"Yeah, mine can be... childish, to say the least," Betty replies, with a sympathetic smile.

Toni laughs. "You're telling me. But it's me and three guys, and we've known each other for years, what are you gonna do?"

"I know, right?" Betty looks at her, laughing.

Veronica looks surprised again, looking at them. "I'm such an idiot, I didn't ask if you were here as a performer! Are you both playing here?"

Betty nods, beaming. "Yeah, actually. You should have seen Toni's set here just before, she killed it! They're gonna be big."

Toni shakes her head slightly. "I mean, I hope so. We are pretty great," she says, with a smirk.

"I was in an interview before just over there, so I think I heard some of it? Well, I liked what I heard. Would've liked to go out and see you." Veronica says, sincere again.

Betty can tell Toni probably wants to reply sarcastically, sensing her hesitation to trust Veronica totally - and hell, she'd taken a long time to trust her, Betty, from the first time they'd met. "Thanks. If you're ever in Portland, and you don't mind slumming it, you can probably find a bar we're playing in," she says wryly.

"I'll keep it mind. New York's got some pretty great dives if you're ever in our neck of the woods, and I love to have new people to go out with," Veronica says, with a somewhat mischievous smile, like she's proving she's not just some Upper East Side dilletante.

"It's a deal," Toni says. "But really, Betty's the one who's killing it. You should go see them at four, you're at which stage?"

Betty colours, and curses herself for this. "Uh, North Stage."

Veronica looks thrilled. "That's a good space! Wait - Laser Lotus? That's you?"

Betty nods, wondering why she's feeling self concious. It's not like she hasn't been working in this band for years. She's usually more confident than this, usually, but something about Veronica's smile makes her feel like she's nineteen and awkward again.

"Yeah, it's been - we've been pretty lucky recently. That hit helped." she explains.

Veronica beams at her. "I can't believe you really did it, Betty! I knew you would!"

Betty can't help but smile, remembering a conversation in the back of a cab a long time ago.

"There you are, V, I've been looking everywhere," a bored, airy voice says, behind them. As they see her come up beside them, she notices Toni tense a little. The girl is dollishly beautiful, with pale skin, and sheet of shiny red hair falling over her shoulders. She's dressed similar to Veronica in deceptively expensive, fashionable festival clothes and is eating icecream from a cup, nonchalantly sucking on the plastic spoon.

"But you stopped for ice cream?" Veronica counters, casually. "When did you even have the time to -"

"Oh no, I asked a hot guy for the one he'd just bought as I was walking past. He pretty much just gave it to me," the girl replies, as if this is a unusual, everyday occurence. Which, for her, it might be, strangely.

"Of course," Veronica replies, amused but seemingly unsurprised.

"So, who are you then?" the girl asks them as if they've just become visible.

Toni looks unimpressed. Betty tries to smile politely, even though this girl seems almost like Veronica's opposite in lots of ways that she doesn't like.

"I'm Betty," she says lightly, and watches the look mildly surprised as she casts an appraising look over her.

"You're shorter than I thought you'd be. But she was right about your bone structure," says, with a sudden, bright smile. Betty doesn't totally trust it.

"Thanks, I think?" she replies, not looking away.

The girl looks over at Toni.

"Toni," she says, coolly.

"Cheryl. I'm one half of a duo with Veronica," she announces to them, almost possesively.

"Nice to meet you.," Betty replies, really more for Veronica's benefit. Toni doesn't say anything, but continues to keep her inscrutible new people smirked on.

"How busy are you guys?" Veronica asks, breaking the slight tension. "Because we have a big room, and we'd love you to come back with us and hang out, maybe have a drink - unless you have to go prepare for your set, Betty?"

Veronica's smile is dazzling. She likely only needs to be at the stage by three, three-thirty. She can leave before then. The boys will text if they need anything, they know where she was going with Toni.

"No, I know when to be there. Let's go!" she says, smiling back.

Veronica beams. "Follow me, then!"

Cheryl runs to catch up with Veronica, leaving Betty and Toni to deliberately fall back a bit.

She looks at Toni apologetically. "Ok, I know, I'm sorry, but I cant hang out with just her and Cheryl. I see that getting awkward. I know, I'm a terrible friend." she says as quietly as possible.

Toni looks at her, with scrutiny. "You are, but I'll forgive you if you tell me what's the deal with that girl - your ex?"

Betty colours, and Toni smirks. "No, she's not my ex - we we'ren't... we never even got the -"

Toni raises an eyebrow. "Now you gotta tell me the story, come on,"

"I will but not now." She looks at Toni, remembering. "I met her at a kind of crossroads in my life. Before I knew you. She was very helpful."

Toni sighs. "Ok, I will hang out with Scary Ginger Spice and you and her, but only because I'm interested in what happened now. But you owe me, Cooper. Big time."

Betty grins. "Big time, you're the best."

***

 

**11:16am**

It's a few seconds after Swole Ed Sheeran - and that is what Sweet Pea has been referring to the guy since they were introduced and he immediately forgot his name - raced away, looking for their other bandmate, that he realises everyone else has disappeared. Toni seems to have gone off with her friend somewhere, Jug is who knows where, and he hasn' t seen Fangs since he saw him leave the room.

James Dean - Reggie, he reminds himself out of fear of referring to him by the other name - grins at him, confidently. Because of course it had been him, of course the band he was in was the one that Toni's friend was in. He didn't fuck with horoscopes, or the concept of 'the universe' as any kind of probability-warping entity (that was Toni and Fangs' field, although he could never tell how serious they were about it)  - but he had to admit he'd been shocked to see Toni lead him and his friends up to meet them. Which he had covered by scowling coolly at them.

They hadn't really had a moment to talk, though, with everyone being introduced and starting group conversations. The red-headed guy was exactly the kind of friend he'd imagine him having, too, and talking to them both had been a strange experience - like a bad high school flashback, except instead of either side starting a fight they'd all been having a fairly civil conversation. He wonders how Toni's friend can deal with both of them.

"You made it to my show," he says, smirking.

Reggie shrugs. "My friends were going, so," he replies nonchalantly. Again, Sweet Pea wants to punch him, and he's not even smirking. It's amazing.

Sweet Pea gives him a sceptical look. "And you didn't want to use that time to catch up on some sleep before your show?" he asks, watching for his reaction.

Reggie looks impassive, but keeps his mouth shut like he's trying not to yawn.

After a moment, he smiles again. "Sleep is for the week, anyway. Glad I came though," Sweet Pea stops wanting to punch him. He really does have a nice smile, even if it's disturbingly even.

 "- There are some very hot people in your band. The leads, wow," Reggie says, and there it is again. He could punch him in his stupid, perfect teeth. How did he lose the upper hand in this conversation?

He makes a disbelieving noise, unable to think of a retort in his irritation.

Reggie chuckles. "Hey I was joking, alright? Well, I mean, your friends are hot, but -"

Sweet Pea just stares at him in disbelief. "What kind of -" he bursts out, and it's almost funny how ridiculous it is.

Reggie cuts him off,  grinning, "-but you're - whatever, I wasn't looking at them. I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Because he's apparently still fifteen years old, or maybe because it's been a while, but this stupid statement causes his stupid, traitorous heart to skip a beat. He still kind of wants to punch Reggie, for saying that like it's some great honour, just to prove that this fact means very little to him. But he's also horribly aware of how much more attracted to him he is because of it.

"Yeah, you are," he says, dryly, hoping to convey how ridiculous that statement sounds. Reggie just smirks like he knows it's working. His lips are ridiculous, too, thick like a model's. Or a boybander.

"Yeah, I am," Reggie echoes.

Just as he's wondering if making out with Reggie would more or less satisfying than hitting him in the face, and whether either would be appropriate where they are right now, he sees Fangs walking up to them. He sighs a little, and he can't tell whether its out of relief or disappointment.

"Hey, guys. What's happening?" He asks brightly.

Sweet Pea's eyes flick over to Reggie, who catches his eye and his heart stutters again, slightly. He keeps a casual expression, which for him is usually slightly annoyed looking anyway. "Just hanging out. Where'd everyone go?"

Fangs sighs, slightly. "Well Toni and Betty went off for a beer, and then I went to go check on Jug, who I talked to a few minutes ago, but I assumed he'd come back here. And I spent a few minutes talking to a girl who saw the show, so that was nice."

"Was she hot?" Reggie asks, and Sweet Pea is annoyed by it, even though he was about to ask something similar.It's the way he asks things though, it's so - obnoxious.

Fangs looks mildly amused by this. "Well, she was pretty, but also I think she might have been eighteen, so a bit young for me. Not really my type, anyway."

Reggie chuckles. "Fair call, man, fair call. Well, I was actually about to ask your buddy here if he wanted to back to the hotel and get high, if you want to join? I don't have to be at the stage till three-fifteen at least."

This is news to him, but it does sound good. Maybe Reggie's one of the few people who are less annoying when they're stoned.

"I'm in. Fangs?" he says, in his most casual voice, hoping Fangs says no. Fangs catches his eye knowingly, and grins.

"No, thanks man, I think I'm gonna explore the festival a bit?" he replies to Reggie, who nods jovially.

"All good, dude. Enjoy it,"

Fangs grins at him again, and he wants to throttle his best friend for being completely unsubtle. "Alright, well you guys have fun."

Reggie smirks, and Sweet Pea wants to throw things at both of them.

***

 

**11:33 am**

Fangs finds himself wandering around the festival, watching people milling around. There are a few stalls at this festival selling things like homemade jewellery and market clothing - probably at a hefty mark-up. People will pay it, like they accept paying $45 for minimalist concert t-shirts just so they can have a memento.

He sees a churros stand, and decides _–_ fuck it, he’s already performed today. If everyone else is going to peel off and do their own thing, he’s going to celebrate this way. With cinnamon sugar and deep fried dough. Not that he minds, really – Sweet Pea and Toni, at least, seem like they’re probably enjoying themselves and he hopes Jughead hasn’t just gone back to the hotel to sulk and write songs.  But it is kind of odd that they’re so disparate after one of their most successful experiences as a group.

“Six dollars fifty,” the server tells him, handing him the churro after he’s ordered. But as he opens his wallet, he realises he only has three dollars in cash, a button, and what looks like a mummified fly?

“Do you take card?” he asks, as politely as he can, smiling.

The woman serving isn’t impressed by this, tapping a “Cash Only” sign he’s only just seen, and he swears internally.

As he’s cursing his shitty luck – only he could go from the adrenaline high of fronting his first festival show to the horrible, too-familiar feeling of not having enough to pay for something. The way people looked at you. Don’t forget who you are, really.

He’s pulled out of this minor existential crisis by someone saying “I’ve got it, can I pay for them with both with this twenty?”

He looks over to see a curly haired, dark skinned girl in round sunglasses in the line beside him, now holding her own churro box.

“No, it’s fine,” he protests, but she gives the twenty to the server anyway.

“I don’t mind. It’s a gift,” she says taking the change, and looks at him warmly. “We should probably get out of the line, though.”

He laughs, still a bit taken aback. “Yeah, probably.”

He looks at her when they’re clear of the churro van. “Thanks, that was really nice of you. If there’s an ATM around here, I can totally – “ he starts.

The girl shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. I said it was a gift,” she says, with a laugh.

“From a stranger?” he asks, surprised by this sudden, unexpected twist of good luck.

“I was in the crowd at your show – it was really fun, I thought you were great. Least I can do,” she says, with a bemused smile. “It’s a free churro. It’s not a Trojan horse.”

He laughs. “Well, thankyou.”

He takes a bite of it, finally and closes his eyes briefly in bliss. ”Sorry – it’s just really good. I haven’t been eating a lot of carbs lately.”

 She laughs again. “I get it. My friend’s exactly the same, I don’t think I could tempt her with a post concert victory churro.”

He begins to laugh, and the penny drops. “I knew you looked familiar!”

She looks surprised. “ _I_ look familiar?”

He nods, grinning. “You’re the drummer for Josie and the Pussycats!” he says, excited, and then grimaces. “Sorry, I’m not trying to blow up your spot here.”

She laughs, looking touched. “You’re sweet, but I’m not really the recognisable one. Curse of being behind the drumkit.”

She gives him a curious look. “It’s usually Josie, or Val who usually get recognised. You just a total stan?” she jokes.

“Uh, no – I mean, I love you guys – but, like a normal, non-creepy amount,” he says, awkwardly and she grins.

“One of my best friends, our drummer, he notices other drummers. He points them out to me,” he explains. “He really would kill me if he knew I was saying this, but he thinks you’re great. He really admires your technique.”

She looks taken aback now, and then smiles wider. “Well, tell your friend I thought he wasn’t bad either. Pretty great.”

He gestures with the churro enthusiastically. “I will.”

She beams at hi. “I’m really glad I bought you that churro now,” she says, extending her non-churro holding hand. “Melody Valentine.”

He shakes it. “Uh – I know. Fangs Fogarty.”

She looks amused by this, but not in a cruel way. She raises an eyebrow. “Fangs?”

He chuckles. “Long story.”

“I gotta hear it, sometime,” she grins. “Well, Fangs. Great to meet you. Wanna explore some overpriced vintage clothes with me?”

“Love to, Melody.”

***

It’s a warm day, but it’s nice out, not too humid, thankfully. He’d put deodorant on after getting off stage, but he’s definitely looking forward to a shower back at the hotel.

Melody and he have fun moseying in and out of stalls, trying on different sunglasses and picking out the most ridiculous options they can find in the vintage clothes stalls.

He pulls out a long dress with a wild print, grinning from something Mel had said, and is struck by a memory.

That old cardboard box he’d found in the basement of Abuela’s little house, the one he found when he was eleven. He’d found a dress with that print, a shorter one though, old but folded lovingly. When he asked her about it, she said she’d forgotten about that box – a box of old clothes that she’d stored for her daughter, who’d never come back for them.

“Wow, check out these overalls,” Mel calls, further up, She looks at him. “You alright?”

He nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He looks at the overalls she’s holding, which are virulently seventies and embellished with what looks like doilies? “But those aren’t. You _have_ to try them on!”

She laughs. “As long as you try on this jumpsuit,” she wagers, pulling out a low-cut, fluorescently orange plasticky jumpsuit.

He grimaces. “Alright. Game recognises game. Let’s do this.”

***

When they’re walking out of there – Melody having actually found a vintage shirt that she fell in love with – she gets a text.

She looks up apologetically. “Apparently I gotta get back to the tour bus, my manager needs to talk to us.”

Fangs’ heart sinks. Obviously, it’s not like he thought they’d hang out all day – but he is a little disappointed. She’s been really fun to hang out with, and it’s not as fun to explore a music festival by yourself.

“Oh – sure, of course,” he replies quickly. “I really had fun hanging out with you today though,” he continues, smiling.

“Yeah, me too,” she says disappointedly. She then gives him a shrewd look. “Unless – are you doing anything else right now?”

He shakes his head. “Well, I’ve already done my show, so no.”

She grins. “You wanna come with? Meet the girls? They’re awesome, you’ll love them. And also my manager will be there, but he’s cool actually. He just comes off a little anxious sometimes.”

This day _really_ wasn’t turning out like he expected. “Really? I mean, yeah, of course!” He says, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager.

She laughs, pulling her arm down in a victory gesture. “Awesome, Fangs! Follow me then.”

***

 

**11:30am**

Veronica’s suite is nicer than hers, definitely and bigger. Not that it’s a surprise – they probably reserve the best rooms for the biggest acts.

Still, it’s a really nice room, for all Cheryl’s complaining about apparently having to share. Betty can strangely understand, now, why they work together the more she sees of them together. They’re quite similar, actually, like Cheryl’s the more intense, stranger, less personable flipside of the disarmingly friendly, charismatic, ambitious coin that is Veronica Lodge.

Then again, she barely knows Veronica now, she realises. 

 

**_5 years ago_ **

_Betty had been looking forward to this part of the course since she’d started it and been determined to earn one of the few spots available. Three weeks of work experience at a smaller newspaper in New York – not the New Yorker, exactly, but still an opportunity the competition had been very heated for. Technically, it was extra credit, and not mandatory but the experience was vital for making connections._

_New York was_ different _to Chicago, obviously – not better, exactly but definitely different. It made her wish she’d been braver, decided to go to college interstate, not just half an hour away from Chicago. But she would miss the boys – her best friends since high school, and earlier, and she wouldn’t be able to keep playing with the band. And she loved their little band, which was sometimes the only outlet for everything stressful in her life. Which was pretty much everything that wasn’t the band, what with school, work and her parents and Polly being pregnant at only twenty one, which was insane but it’s not like she could say anything about it. Every time she thought about it her thoughts became a whirlwind of anxiety._

_This trip almost felt like a blessing – she’d even managed to get time off from her otherwise unrewarding retail job. It was nice to be away from all that, even if she missed her friends._

_She had gotten into a routine of getting a bagel for lunch at this great deli near work, getting coffee there, and walking back to the office. It was getting colder in New York, but she liked that. Not winter yet, but cold enough to see the trees go red-brown, cold enough without the air feeling like a thousand tiny icepicks whenever you went outside._

_It was in her first week, walking back to the office, that she saw her. She was walking out of one of the glassy skyscrapers and laughing, with a friend – a tall, blandly handsome boy – and she looked so, thrilled, her whole face lit up with amusement, that Betty wondered what her friend had said that could possibly be so amusing. Betty didn’t even know if she was truly beautiful, or just so glamorous it didn’t matter. She wasn’t close enough to tell, anyway. Either way, Betty had gone back to work with that joyful, glamorous face on her mind._

_She’d forgotten about it for a few days until next week, when she saw her coming out of the same building. No friend this time, but carrying bags from expensive fifth-avenue stores like the perfect image of a Park Avenue princess, or like a character who’d stepped out of ‘Gossip Girl’._

_Betty stayed, standing off to the side so as not to be seen or piss off the perpetually busy and annoyed pedestrians, and watched her get into a car. She seemed to treat the people around her well, at least. As the car pulled away she shook herself and hurried back to work._

_She couldn’t explain why this girl was so interesting – there were a lot of rich people in this city, and she wasn’t generally struck by them. But something about her felt like – like she was the lead character in a film, and you were just an extra. You couldn’t help looking at her._

_It happened again, and again, until curiosity got the better of her. She cracked and asks a work friend what the building was. It occurred to her she could have googled it but she wanted to ask questions if needed._

_“If it’s the one I think you mean, it’s the Lodge Industries building. They’ve got their hands in a lot of pies around the city. And otherwise,” her friend Jen tells her, and frowns. “I’ve heard some pretty dodgy things about them, Nothing that’s ever been widely reported on though. Not enough evidence. Why?”_

_“Just -  curious,” she replies, colouring slightly._

_It becomes unconsciously habit, once Betty realises she comes to the building around lunch a couple of times a week. For some reason, she’s more disappointed when she doesn’t see the mysterious girl of her lunch hour. It shouldn’t matter. The girl is a literal stranger._

_One day she sees her come out with a handsome older man in a suit. Betty vaguely recognises him, but can’t place it – until she’s looking for an old story and sees him in a picture. There he is, at some benefit with his beautiful, glamorous wife and daughter. There she is; only a year or two younger. So she’s a financier’s treasured socialite daughter. That tracks._

_Betty never mentions her to the boys when she could calls them. They wouldn’t get it, or they’d be gross about it. Well, that was most likely from Reggie, but still. She decides that one day, it will be a funny story. For now, she puts it out of her head and focuses on the reason she’s here._

_*_

_As much as she’s used to cold, she’s happy to get out of it and into a cab, in her last week in New York. She’s supposed to be going out with some friends at a bar – her fake ID is surprisingly good -, but she’s coming from work, and she already worked late today so she doesn’t really still feel like it._

_She’s so preoccupied getting out of the wind, she doesn’t notice someone else getting in on the other side of the cab._

_“Hey! No, this is mine!” she protests. She barely ever takes cabs, and like hell is some irritable pedestrian going to talk this one from her._

_“I’m sorry, but I really –“ the person says, in a miserable, anxious voice._

_With a shock, Betty realises it’s her. The girl. The socialite. Looking distinctly less joyful._

_“Are you – ok?” she asks, on instinct._

_“Hey, hey, are you going to tell me where you want to go? Or will you just talk whole time?” the driver calls, irritably._

_She looks at the miserable girl tentatively. “Where – where do you want to go?”_

_The girl lets out a sob. “Oh god, I – I have no idea. I don’t want to go home.”_

_Betty has an idea, and hopes she’s right. She tells the driver an address. “I know I don’t know you, but if you want you can hang out with me for a bit? I’m a good listener.”_

_The girl looks at her curiously, watery-eyed. “You’re a life-saver –?”_

_“Betty,” she supplies, hoping she doesn’t sound awkward._

_Veronica smiles slightly. “Veronica. What have you got in mind?”_

***

Veronica looks at her, in a smiling, lightly teasing way. “What are you thinking about?”

Betty smiles, glad she isn’t blushing. “Oh, nothing. I still can’t believe I somehow missed that you’re one half of Total Betty? I knew your band was one of the headliners, and yet... Love that name, by the way.”

Veronica’s eyes twinkle. “Well, Cheryl and I bonded over _Clueless_ , so. Seemed only right,” she replies, with a faintly mischievous smile.

“Of course. Great movie,” Betty replies, smiling back.

She looks over to where Toni is sitting near Cheryl, and is surprised to see them having a fairly civil conversation. Toni catches her eye, and raises her eyebrows at Veronica, which Veronica doesn’t see.

“Ronnie, will you go down and ask the management to send up a bottle of something cold? I’m parched,” Cheryl asks, like she may faint from heat exhaustion.

Veronica looks at her funny, but then smiles. “Of course. Betty, come with?”

“Uh – sure,” she says, surprised. She notices Cheryl’s lip curl slightly, in her otherwise blasé expression.

Toni gives her a brief “you-owe-me-so-much” look, and turns back to Cheryl.

Once out of the room, Veronica beams at her. “Thought it might be nice to catch up without the audience. I’m sorry for interrupting your plans with your friend, though.”

Betty shakes her head. “No – no it’s great to see you. And Toni’s fine to hang out with us, she’s very cool.”

Veronica laughs. “I feel a little bad leaving her with Cheryl – she’s, well, kind of an acquired taste,” she stops walking to look at her. “I just – the chances of seeing you, here, are crazy. I’d just really like to – catch up with you.”

Betty smiles back. “Yeah, I’d like that. It’s been a while.”

Veronica nods. “Five years.”

She smiles, a little wistfully. “I always wondered what you were up to, you know?”

Betty looks down, and then up again. “Yeah, and you too.”

“So, tell me all about it...”Veronica says, as they continue walking.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is largely about moving people into place, but i still hope it was fun to read :) excited to write more of these combos, and i seriously think that fangs and mel should have more screen time in canon, because they could have fun storylines (possibly involving investigation? come at me writers i have ideas)
> 
> (also i changed the chaptering slightly, because i can't believe the one fic i wasn't going to give music-related chapter titles was my actual music festival fic, and also i liked it better this way)


	4. not a chapter sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somehow I duplicated the last chapter? not sure how I did that, but when I went to delete it said it would delete the comments too, which would make me sad - so this is not a new chapter! until I put the new one up.

g.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is largely about moving people into place, but i still hope it was fun to read :) excited to write more of these combos, and i seriously think that fangs and mel should have more screen time in canon, because they could have fun storylines (possibly involving investigation? come at me writers i have ideas)


	5. 11:35-12:25pm//young blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is chapter four actually - but i can't deleted the repeated chapter without also deleting comments on it, so sorry it's a bit confusing.

**11:45 am**

Toni is definitely starting to regret the rash decision that she’d made earlier in agreeing to semi-wingwoman an old friend when she had run into a not-an-ex ex (because they were certainly _something_. Of that, she was certain). She’d been sensing Betty’s relief to see her since they’d met up earlier, and something about the way she’d looked at this mysterious, beautiful girl had made her think she needed this time together.

And she was sure that they were having a great time catching up – but she wishes they’d get back soon, because Veronica’s bandmate is the worst. Toni was already a little uncomfortable around them both – these sort of girls are the kind of people she usually goes out of her way to avoid – but Veronica makes up for it with warmth and charm. Her bandmate – Cheryl – doesn’t seem to have attended the same finishing school, though. Cheryl seems to have decided to question her – with anyone else this might be polite small talk with a stranger, but with this girl every question feels like the _Jaws_ theme song should be playing in the back ground.

Cheryl’s definitely odd – there’s a strangely intense look in her eye, and edge to her sentences, even though she speaks in a bored drawl. She wants to know where Toni’s from, and how the band is going for her, and yet all of it seems to say _you know I’m better than you and I don’t even have to try, I’m just waiting for you to admit it._ It puts Toni on edge, and reminds her how much she hates rich kids. And these aren’t just the more privileged kids from back home, the kids with two parents who could buy them reasonably priced cars and smartphones – they were the real deal, probably literally a part of the one percent. It was in the clothes they wore, the branded luggage in their suite, even in the way they talked.

“She tried to push past me, and I was like try that _again_ Swift, I’ve stepped on bigger snakes than you. Anyway, Paris is too crowded when Fashion Week is on, I’ve got better places to be,” Cheryl drawls, finishing off some interminable brag. Toni is trying very hard not to openly roll her eyes. The thing with Cheryl is that unlike a lot of braggers she’s met, she genuinely doesn’t seem to need your approval at all. “Have you ever been to Europe?” she asks nonchalantly, like she doesn’t already know the answer.

Toni can’t help narrowing her eyes defensively. “No. Never left the United States,” she says coolly.

Cheryl doesn’t look surprised. “Well, you should try sometime. We have a pied-à-terre on the right bank of the Seine that is heaven, and my parents hardly ever get out there,” she says indifferently, and Toni wants badly to grab her by her shiny, perfect red hair. “That’s in Paris,” she adds.

“I’m aware,” Toni bites out, as casually as she can. Oh, _sure,_ that must be so nice for you, I’ll just quit my job and save up to pop off to Europe, even though I’m so uniformed about it. “No, my parents had one too, but they sold it. They didn’t like the neighbourhood,” she deadpans.

Cheryl’s eyes flash, and she looks her up and down. “Right, of course.”

Toni heartily dislikes her, especially for the implied insult, the malice in those three words. Being around her is like being back in high school again – she’d always been able to handle herself, and her high school popular girls had often been into physical altercations as much as verbal ones – but she doesn’t envy anyone who went to school with her.

*

“You said that to him?” Betty asks incredulously, as they enter the suite again, carrying cold bottles.

“Well, I wasn’t going to let him just walk all over us!” Veronica says, laughing. “People like him are just waiting to take advantage, if you let them.”

“God, tell me about it,” Betty replies.

“Thank _God,_ I was about to send out a search party. Why didn’t you just have it sent up?” Cheryl asks dramatically, seeing them.

Betty notices Toni does not look thrilled, but smiles a little, looking relieved upon seeing her. Again, she feels a pang of guilt – they had seemed ok when she’d left, but to be honest she wasn’t totally paying attention.

Veronica gives her a blasé look. “We were going to, but then the front desk staffers were so prompt and helpful we decided we could wait, and bring it up ourselves. Anyway, we’ve got champagne and orange juice,” she smiles mischievously. “If you can wait a little longer before you die of thirst, I was thinking we could make mimosas?”

Cheryl narrows her eyes slightly, for a second, and then smiles widely. “I would _love_ a mimosa, V. She is _phenomenal_ at making drinks, you guys,” she says to both of them lightly, with an almost confrontational look at Betty. “Unless you don’t drink before shows? When do you have to go again?” she asks, uber-politely.

Betty smiles sweetly back. “I don’t have to be at the stage till three-thirty, so I would _love_ a mimosa.”

Cheryl’s smile slips infinitesimally. Betty catches Toni’s smirk at her.

“Are you having one, Toni?” Veronica asks genially, looking over at her. Toni nods back, still smirking a little. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one, but sure. Thanks.”

Veronica beams. “Alright! Technically, it’s before noon so it’s still brunch. I’m so glad you guys are here!” she says excitedly, going off to get glasses out of the kitchen area – which was still nicer than some of the actual kitchens she’d lived with.

“Well, then I’m going to put on a playlist. You can’t have a good unexpected soiree without good music,” Cheryl announces lightly, in a way that sounds a lot more like she meant “unwanted”.

Betty sits down on the long sofa next to Toni, and they share a smirk.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long. You can totally go if you’re not enjoying it here,” she says quietly, smiling apologetically.

Toni shakes her head. “I know _that_. But it’s nice to see you, and Veronica actually seems,” she pauses for a moment, and Betty grins. Toni rolls her eyes. “- very nice, which I admit I wasn’t expecting. I also expect details, when we have a moment.”

Betty opens her mouth to protest, and closes it. “There aren’t any _details._ She’s an old friend.”

Toni looks at her patronisingly. “Anyone with eyes can tell there are _details_ , Betty. There’s something. You’re gonna tell me.”

Betty nods her head slightly, hoping she’s not reddening. “Ok, ok, later. Sorry for leaving you with _her_ though.”

Toni shakes her head. “Yeah...you owe me. But also, she’s kind of fascinatingly terrible. I kind of want to keep watching to see what she does next.”

Betty watches Toni look over to where Cheryl is looking through her phone, having attached it to the sound system. She raises an eyebrow briefly when Toni looks back. “That the only reason?”  she teases, only half-serious.

Toni laughs. “Whatever you’re implying, _no_.”

Betty grins. “Alright, just saying.”

***

**11:35am**

Jughead doesn’t know exactly how he’s ended up neither with his friends, or back in his room, alone. He could be writing songs right now. But he isn’t – and now he’s pushing across crowds hearing snatches of competing music from various stages, escorting a near-stranger to a bar tent.

He doesn’t even know why he offered to do this. He wasn’t exactly the welcoming committee type in high school.

He looks at the guy, quickly. He was almost certainly a jock, in high school. They wouldn’t have been friends. Of that he’s sure.

If he were to explain what he had been thinking when he offered - there was something dichotomous about the guy. Like you could easily hate him, if he tipped into brash overconfidence like that friend of his, if he didn’t seem just a bit lost. Clearly it was Toni’s friend – the girl they were chasing down – who was the organiser, and he could see that being a part of their friendship outside of the band. In all likelihood, he might have found a map and the beer tent on his own, but maybe he wouldn’t have. In short, it was that which made Jughead offer.

The guy – Archie – is looking at his phone in frustration.

“Everything ok?” he ventures, unsure whether to ask.

Archie looks up at him, almost surprised. “Uh – I don’t know. Betty never goes this long without at least picking up her phone.”

“Maybe – it died on her?” he attempts to suggest charitably, even though the image he’s got of her is not the sort of person who would let that happen to them, especially at a music festival.

Archie seems to consider this, but shakes his head. “No, I think she turned it off. My phone’s always dying because I always forget to charge it, but that never happens to her.”

He can’t help smiling slightly at this. “So why are you so worried? Do you think she’ll forget about the show?”

Archie sighs. “No, I know – she’ll know where to go. But it’s just not like her. That’s what worries me.”

Jughead nods, no stranger to people’s erratic behaviour and the fear that comes with it.

“So are you going to stay at the festival for the weekend?” Archie asks, after a moment.

He looks at him, surprised. “Not sure. I was keen to get home, but I think my friends would like to stay for tomorrow if they can.”

Archie nods. “There’s some pretty good bands tomorrow, you should definitely stay.”

Jughead shakes his head. “I’ll probably end up staying tomorrow because of majority rule, but I don’t think I’ll leave the hotel.”

Archie chuckles. “You’re just determined not to have any fun if you have to stay?”

“Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to do anything fun,” he replies indignantly, wondering how his choices are being criticised by this guy, of all people. “I was going to get some writing done.”

Archie smiles. “Not that it doesn’t very fun, but...there’s a whole festival happening just next door, and you don’t want to take a look? You don’t get this at home. Where are you from, again?”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Portland. Where I can listen to music at home, without masses of people pushing past me.”

Archie laughs incredulously. “You’re a musician! You play live shows all the time! How can you not want – how can you think it’s the same as a recording?”

Jughead gives him a look. “That’s different – when I’m performing there’s only actually like three other people on stage with me.”

Archie shakes his head, grinning. “I don’t get you, man.”

Jughead thinks of a response, but forgets it on seeing that they’ve reached the beer tent. “Well, I guess you never will. The beer tent, as promised,” he says dryly.

Archie grins. “Thanks for your help. Maybe I’ll see you around the festival?”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he says, with a doubtful expression. “I hope you find her.”

“You don’t want to see if your friend is here?” Archie asks, surprised.

He shakes his head. “I’m just going to head back to the hotel.”

Archie nods, then hesitantly asks, “Do you want to come in? I feel like I should buy you a drink. For your help.”

There it is – his least favourite thing to hear, other than “Your card’s been declined,” or “we don’t have many shifts for you this week.”

“No thanks, uh, I’m ok,” he says, as casually as possible.

Archie doesn’t take the hint. “No, come on, I dragged you out into the heat. It’s the least I can do.”

Jughead sighs. “No, really – I don’t.” He says, awkwardly.

“Don’t?” Archie asks, and then the penny finally drops. “Oh...ohh. Ok,” he says, reddening. “I’m sorry. I will let you go now, before I, uh, say anything else stupid.”

 _That may only be a matter of time,_ a mean voice in his head says, but he ignores it. “Don’t worry about it. See you.”

“Yeah, well. Thanks.” Archie says and disappears into the tent.

Jughead pulls out his phone to text Toni, and check if she’s still with Betty. If she isn’t he’s going to try and find her, but if she is he’ll just let her know he’s here. He probably should have checked earlier but it hadn’t been that long since she left, and he’d assumed they were still together.

 _Hey, are you both still at the beer tent?_ He texts.

 _beer tent? no were at the hotel,_ he gets back promptly from Toni and frowns. He’s going to have to go in after all.

But as he looks up he sees Archie leaving the tent, looking annoyed. He hesitates for a moment and then comes up to him.

“She’s not in there. And her phone is still off. This is so, just, not like her.” Archie says, frustrated.

“Toni just texted me. She says they’re back at the hotel,” he replies, unsure of what else to say.

Archie looks momentarily happier.

“Awesome, thankyou dude! I guess I’m going back to the hotel, then,” he says, beginning to walk off.

“Alright then, sure,” Jughead thinks, somewhat offended.

Archie stops and turns back around, looking puzzled. “Are you coming, Jughead?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to, uh, get back. Like I said. Writing to do,” he answers awkwardly, catching up and feeling oddly pleased.”

***

**11:45am**

Sweet Pea leans back into the couch, and exhales. “They definitely gave you a nicer room than me,” he croaks.

Reggie chuckles. “That’s what they do for the big dogs.”

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes. “Ugh. You realise you’re kind of the worst, dude?”

Reggie smirks back at him. “Or am I the best? I did just smoke you up, so like...”

Sweet Pea nods, begrudgingly. “Ok, you did that.”

Reggie looks at him, grinning over winning the point. It’s infuriating.

He looks away, shaking his head, and something occurs to him. “When are you on? Will you... be ok...for that?” he realises slowly.

Reggie groans. “I’m on at four, ok, grandma? It’ll be fine.”

Sweet Pea frowns. “Whatever, I don’t actually care.”

Reggie grins at him, inexplicably. “Well, thanks anyway. But Betty’s most likely going to drag me out of here way before then, anyway, so don’t worry.”

Sweet Pea notices his grin sour slightly in saying this, and wonders if he gets along with either of his bandmates. He can’t imagine that with his friends – the thought of not liking them, or being in a band with people he doesn’t like makes his skin crawl.

“She’d do that? She didn’t seem that intense before,” he ventures, slowly. She had seemed fairly calm when they’d been introduced before, but in talking to her he’d gotten a sense of why she and Toni had become friends. He wouldn’t go so far as to call Toni Type-A but she’d always been their leader, she’d always been the organiser. People didn’t always assume this but they soon learned from their mistake.

Reggie chuckles, almost wearily. “You’ve only known her since this morning. I’ve known her since we were fifteen. She likes being the one in charge.”

Sweet Pea chuckles. “Yeah, I get that. But without Toni, we wouldn’t even be at this festival, so I can’t be too mad at her. She’s...she’s the best, really.”

Reggie lies back, taking a drag on the joint. “Yeah. I mean, whatever. Someone has to take charge, right?”

He breathes out. “But she’s just always _on me_ for something. She could use some of _this_ sometimes.”

Sweet Pea coughs, and raises an eyebrow at Reggie. Realisation of what he’s implying sweeps over Reggie’s face and he shakes his head rapidly.

“Oh, no, not in a million years,” he says, laughing. “Well, technically there was a brief period junior year of high school, but that was a weird time, anyway, so it hardly counts.”

Sweet Pea laughs. “Been there.”

Reggie looks at him, interested. “Did you ever date _your_ friend, then? I’d totally get it, _incredibly_ hot.”

Sweet Pea narrows his eyes. “Easy, ok? And, no, never – Toni’s like, my oldest friend, but I’m not into her, like that...she’s not really my type...” he says, suddenly panicking that he’s misread this whole situation. Guys are always trying to get to Toni through befriending him, which they soon enough realise is a terrible plan, because he doesn’t usually befriend people easily and hates guys that try and hit on her.

“What is it with guys like you thinking you can get to her through me?” he starts, sitting up in frustration.

Reggie looks bemused. “I’m...not thinking that? How do you know I was talking about Toni? Maybe I’m talking about your _other_ lead vocalist. With the arms. And the smile.”

“Ok, I get it,” he snaps, and Reggie grins more. “I shouldn’t have assumed that. Sorry,” he says, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, and retreating slightly.

“No,” Reggie says suddenly, sitting forward toward him. Sweet Pea doesn’t know what to do, having accidentally caught his eye. Reggie doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“Don’t be sorry, I was talking about Toni,” he says, grinning.

“I _fucking_ knew it, you dick!” Sweet Pea says, half incredibly frustrated but also half-smiling. He lies back against the couch, and takes the joint off a laughing Reggie.

Reggie looks at him, still smirking. “That doesn’t mean... I wasn’t lying about your friend, alright?”

He rolls his eyes. “Alright, I get it already. You’d rather he’d come. Believe it or not, I’m used to people hitting on him and Toni more.”

Reggie looks at him curiously. “No, dude I meant...” he trails off. “I invited him to be polite. You... _have_ to know that.”

Sweet Pea breathes, in and out, feeling suddenly like there’s smoke in his lungs. Reggie is barely that far from him, now that they’re lying back against the couch.

“Do...I now?” he manages.

“Yeah,” Reggie whispers, and moves forward.

Sweet Pea can’t say punching him wouldn’t be satisfying; but kissing him is just as good, if not better, than he imagined. He doesn’t think about much more than this as he half-falls, half-climbs clumsily onto Reggie’s lap, so he’s not kissing him at a windpipe-straining angle.

***

**12:03pm**

Despite the fact that she doesn’t particularly like Cheryl, Toni has to secretly admit that her playlist is more fun than she would’ve have expected from her. It’s a lot of girl-pop, but the best of it. She can never listen to music like this with the guys. Well, maybe Fangs, depending on how many drinks they’ve had and if the others are with them. But really, this whole situation is a rare occurrence for her.  It’s been unexpectedly fun just hanging out with the girls, talking and drinking.

She raises her nearly empty glass appreciatively, smiling. “You know, I didn’t know what to expect, but you make a good mimosa, Veronica.”

Veronica laughs. “Thanks, girl! If there’s something I pride myself on, it’s knowing the best drinks for the situation. My mother used to say it was one of the most important skills a hostess could have.”

Cheryl snickers, sitting beside Veronica on one sofa. “Yeah, and our mothers would know.”

Veronica gives her a look, but can’t help smirking. “They manage a lot of benefits and galas together,” she explains.

“And then they drink a lot.” Cheryl adds, smirking.

 Veronica looks like she should scold Cheryl, but laughs anyway. “Well, they’ve passed us on some pretty kickass drink recipes, anyway. I still have people asking about the Mojave Mojitos I served at my 18th birthday party, to this day!”

“Your eighteenth? Your parents were ok with that?” Betty asks, with surprised disbelief.

Veronica shrugs. “My parents trusted me. And besides, it was in Milan, and it’s legal at that age there,” she says, like it’s no big deal.

Toni shares a incredulous smirk with Betty. “Oh, so like a destination party? What a normal childhood you had, V,” Betty says, grinning.

“It was only about twenty of my friends,” Veronica protests, but begins to laugh when she sees the expressions on Betty and Toni’s faces, and suddenly they’re all laughing.

“God, I haven’t hung out with girls in so long. I miss it!” Betty says, wiping her eyes.

“Aw, you don’t have friends who are girls at home?” Veronica asks sympathetically. 

Betty shrugs. “I do, but I spend so much time on band things – and it’s not easy to keep up friendships when we travel this much. I just end up hanging out with the guys, cause it’s easier. Well, when they’re not being super bro-y,” she says, with a faintly dark look at Toni.

Toni nods, in complete understanding. “The boys aren’t exactly _bro-y,_ ” she starts, to Betty’s amusement, and the other girls’ interested smiles. She smirks. “But I totally get you. I’ve known two of them since childhood and the other since high school, so they’re pretty much my closest friends – but sometimes I’m just like, I can’t be in this room any longer with all of you! But Betty’s kind of one of my only female friends, actually, thinking about it.”

Betty puts a hand to her chest in mock surprise. “Me? I’m honoured.”

Toni giggles at this. Which is odd, because she’s not really a giggler at home. Maybe it’s an ‘abundance of girls’ thing. Maybe it’s the mimosas.

“Actually, I didn’t really have a lot of girls I would have called friends in school. Upper East Side girls are the _worst_.” Cheryl pipes up.

“Wow, thanks, babe,” Veronica teases, mock-offended.

“Excluding you, _of course,_ my dearest Ronnie,” Cheryl amends smoothly, with a tooth-rootingly sweet smile. “But that doesn’t count because I didn’t go to your high school. For long.”

“For long?” Toni asks, interested before she realises she’s said anything.

Veronica laughs. “Oh, this is good.”

Betty sits forward too, turning her attention to Cheryl with a smile. 

Cheryl smirks like a Cheshire cat, clearly pleased to be the centre of attention. “It’s _barely_ a story. I was only at Spence for about three weeks.”

“And yet,” Veronica giggles, taking a sip of her drink.

Cheryl’s smirk widens. “Well, I _had_ been at Edith Cavendish School for Girls, but then they excluded me for reasons that were _totally political_. And partly to do with a _small indiscretion_ involving the school swimming pool after hours and a bottle of $400 tequila,” she says innocently, and Veronica snickers.

Toni is kind of fascinated already – their teen lives are unimaginable to her, like something out of that TV show about rich kids in New York, but she can’t remember the name of the show. No one would have made a TV show about her teenage years, unless it was a ‘real and gritty’ _Skins_ type show. But even that had wild parties all the time – she had definitely been to some throughout high school, but the majority of her time was her crappy job at a fast-food place, school, studying, hanging out with the guys.

“So when I was sixteen, my parents pulled some strings to get me into Spence Academy. Which, I had told them I was not keen to go to, but did they listen? No. Like they ever listened,” Cheryl continues, smiling – but with a pointed look in her eyes that is probably closer to how she really felt about it. “But I did _try_ to fit in. But at that school you were either a nobody, a hanger-on, or part of the inner circle. And I’m _nobody’s_ hanger on.” 

Toni has to admit, she has a dramatic flair that makes her an entertaining storyteller.

“So, what did you do?” Betty asks, curious.

“Well I tried to befriend some key members of the inner circle, but it was harder than I anticipated,” Cheryl says, with a sideways look at Veronica, who laughs. “Due to the fact that Upper East Side teenagers are _the worst._ And so, after they made it _very publically_ clear what they thought of me - I decided to make them regret underestimating me, by undermining them a little. It wasn’t a _huge_ thing,” she says, in a tone that sounds like she thinks it very much was and is proud. “I made a friend who could hack kids’ phones, and I built up secrets from their texts and messages that I could strategically leak in order to destabilise them one by one,” she says with relish. 

“Wow. I think my Mom would love you,” Betty says, sounding almost awed. “That or she’d hate how much of herself she would recognise in you. That is next level.”

 Toni smirks, surprised. “Yeah, I don’t know whether to be shocked or impressed. I’m leaning towards impressed, though. That’s a seriously Machiavellian plan for a teenager.”

Cheryl looks genuinely appreciative of the compliment. “Well, it had the desired effect.”

“Didn’t it though, girl?” Veronica laughs. “My friends were so mad, they couldn’t figure out where the leaks were coming from! Emerson Qualley kept whining to Nick, “Figure it OUT, Nick!”

Cheryl laughs, at the memory or maybe just the thought. “Nick the Dick? God, there’s someone I don’t miss.”

Veronica laughs. “Hear, hear.”

Betty looks at Veronica, confused. “Wait, you were in the middle of this?” she asks, just as Toni has the same thought.

Veronica nods, still laughing. “Oh yes. I was like, right, at the centre of the inner circle.”

“Did Cheryl’s leaks get you badly?” Toni asks, still surprised she’s this invested.

Veronica shakes her head.

“I tried to be – fair – in my karmic retribution, actually,” Cheryl defends herself airily. “The people who had mocked me the most got the worst leaks, and then the ones who had just laughed and stood around. V actually didn’t do much of it, so.”

“To be fair, I could be kind of a hellbeast at that time, so I definitely needed what I got. I just wasn’t as bad as some of my friends.” Veronica explains.

Betty looks puzzled. “But you weren’t like, mad? She still hacked your secrets, after all.”

Veronica looks at Cheryl and they share a knowing look. “I kind of was at first, at whoever was doing it, but then they revealed that my boyfriend Hunter was cheating on me with like half the female student body population, and like, I dodged _such_ a bullet when I dumped him that I wasn’t even mad when I found out it was her,” she smiles at Cheryl. “I kind of felt like I owed her, actually.”

“So, how did you get caught?” Toni asks Cheryl.

Cheryl frowns. “My tech nerd friend cracked under pressure, and gave me up for a suspension when they got onto him. He was weak, it was only a matter of time.” She brightens. “But _oh_ it was fun. More fun than the Catholic school. Or the boarding school.”

“You’re almost like the diametric opposite of my friend, Jug,” Toni realises, with a grin. “He went to a few different high schools before he settled at mine sophomore year, but his strategies were like _stay in the background,_ and _stay away from popular kids_ like his life depended on it. Which I guess, in some of them, it did.”

She realises this last bit is probably going to bring the mood down a bit. She didn’t even mean to say something like that, it just kind of slipped out as she was thinking about him. It’s funny – even though she had originally been thinking about how different they were, she realises she can see parts of his personality in her. The kind of person who puts up walls, invents an attitude to hide some deep pain or uncertainty, just behind the eyes. She knows how it looks on a person. Cheryl has it, she’s sure. Both Jughead’s same strange intensity, and standoffishness which seems rude when you don’t know him. And glimpses, when she was telling the story, of the kind of person she must be around Veronica, when she doesn’t feel threatened – the way she watched Jug become around her and the boys when they started hanging out after school. She thinks he’d hate her. But maybe not for just the fact that she’s rich.

“Wait, this is a person’s name? Jug?” Veronica asks bemusedly, breaking the slight pall on the conversation.

“It’s actually short for Jughead,” Toni smirks.

Veronica looks at her and Betty speechlessly.

“Trust me, that is the tip of the iceberg with them,” Betty replies, and Toni laughs, and then everyone cracks up.

***

**12:04pm**

"Here she is!" a girl calls when they finally walk up to the massive tour bus. She's sitting in a folding chair in the shade of a pulled out awning from the bus, looking very relaxed.

"And she's… brought someone? Kevin, is this a plus-one meeting?" Another girl standing by her own chair says, and Fangs can't tell if she's joking or not. He recognises her at first glance - the band's lead singer, the most well-known face in the band, Josie McCoy. Which would obviously make the seated girl Valerie Brown.

A guy with an expensive haircut and the least-festival appropriate clothes, walks around the corner of the bus, taking his phone away from his ear. "Mel, you did -" he starts irritably, until his eyes alight on them. "What…" he trails off, walking up to them.

"Don't worry, they'll chill out," Mel says in an undertone to him, and turns back to them. "What's the problem? This doesn't _look_ like a closed rehearsal, Jose?" she jokes, in a light enough tone.

The preppy guy looks like he's trying to find the words. "What - I mean, Mel, I didn't just drag you back here to ask you what are the best acts to check out, I have something important to tell you guys, and I'm not sure -" he says, sounding put-upon.

"I can go if that's a problem," Fangs speaks up, but Mel shakes her head.

"Come on, I just made him walk all this way, guys. He's cool! And it would be totally rude to just send him away!" she says, with a winning smile.

Valerie holds her beer up. "I like him, I say he stays," she says, smiling at him. He smiles back appreciatively.

Josie is scrutinizing him. "Well, I trust Mel's taste in people. And, it would be rude to send him away. Can he stay, Kev?" she says, smiling at the preppy guy.

The guy looks at him. "Well, uh, we wouldn't wanna be… rude, so of course." He breaks into a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry for that. I do have something important to discuss with the girls, though." Fangs nods, smiling. "Totally get it. I didn't mean to intrude -"

The guy cuts him off. "No, any other day I'd be - it's just kind of a stressful day. Anyway -" He holds out a hand which he shakes, finding it surprisingly soft. "Kevin Keller. I manage the band, as much as I can. I'm usually more fun," he says, with a grin. He has an open, friendly face up close, and a slightly goofy smile that Fangs is finding kind of endearing.

Mel chuckles. "Don't believe him, he's mean," she teases, and he shakes his head.

"See what I have to deal with?" Kevin says, long-sufferingly.

Josie appears at Kevin's shoulder. She's shorter in person, but no less of a presence. He can kind of tell why she's the face of the band, if it hadn't been clear before.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but this is my girl Josie. She's an actual angel, and basically the reason any of us are here today," Mel introduces her, beaming.

"Well, I don't know about that," Josie says, beaming, in the tone of someone who does know about that, but doesn't want to seem immodest. "Maybe a little," she smirks. So, not too concerned. "How did you meet our lovely Mel?"

"She actually bought me a churro. We kind of met in the line." He explains, and Josie giggles.

"Should have guessed, she can't resist something that involves fried dough," Josie teases, giggling again at Mel's noise of protest.

"And you didn't bring me back one? I am _hurt,_ Melody," Valerie says, appearing at Kevin's other shoulder in her big aviators. She holds a hand out casually. "Val Brown. Lovely to meet you," she says, smiling, and pauses. He realises he hasn't had a chance to introduce himself yet.

He shakes her hand, unsurprised when it's less soft than Kevin's - she has the tell-tale calluses of a long-time bassist. "Fangs Fogarty," he says, and waits for the reactions. Josie seems bemused. Kevin seems puzzled. Valerie just nods a chill kind of acceptance with a smile.

"Fangs?" Kevin starts, looking like he can't quite wrap his head around it. To be fair to him though, he seems like he's from somewhere full of Chads, Davids and Michaels. Not a lot of people like him, probably.

"Is that a nickname?" Josie asks, sounding intrigued. "Very mysterious."

He shakes his head, grinning. "Not really, and kinda, I guess. I moved to a new school when I was ten, and a girl called me it, and it just kinda stuck."

"You just let her name you?" Kevin asks, seemingly fascinated, to another subtle protest noise from Mel. "If I'd let the kids in my school do that for me, I wouldn't be able to introduce myself," he says, half-smiling.

He shrugs "I let her do a lot of things. They're usually good."

"Aw," Josie says, apparently charmed. He's not surprised, it's probably familiar to her. "Does she have a nickname too?"

"Once, but if you use it she's likely to kick you in the, uh, well, yeah. It's best not to." He says, wondering mid sentence if it's rude to say "balls" to celebrities he's just been introduced to and stumbling a little.

"She sounds great," Mel replies, grinning. 

Kevin smiles, looking at him. He's liking it more and more as he sees it. Then he shakes his head, switching to a more businesslike expression. "As diverting as this is, we have something important to discuss!"

Josie sighs in unison with her bandmates. "Ok fiiiine, what is it." 

Kevin looks serious. "I heard some news today, and it might affect you performing here."

This quiets everyone effectively.

***

**12:17 pm**

Ginger Spice – Cheryl – isn’t so bad, maybe, Toni thinks. Definitely weird, and fond of saying obnoxious rich-person things, but she’s got an entertainingly dark sense of humour. Or maybe it’s just the drinks that are putting a warm edge on things.

“It’s kind of mean to say but God, It was _hilarious_. I’m pretty sure I still have the video on my phone...” Toni says, with a snigger, picking up her phone.

“Well, now I have to see _that_ , oh my god,” Cheryl replies, with a laugh.

She didn’t used to be someone who hung out with girls – she didn’t trust girls in high school, and they didn’t really attempt to befriend her – but she’d gotten more female friends since then. She’d forgotten what it was like to hang out with them, the different ways it was fun.

She’s looking for it when she gets a ping and automatically goes to look at the notification. She’s only making sure it’s not something important, and she’s about to go back to looking for the video, when a headline on her news app catches her eye.

“Cheryl?” she asks, looking at the article.

“Yes? Found it yet?” Cheryl replies.

“No...Hiram Lodge, is that any relation to Veronica?” she asks, looking up.

“That’s her father, why –“ Cheryl asks, smile slipping. Toni guesses her poker face isn’t so good.

Veronica had gone to show Betty something in the room – which seemed like a transparent excuse to be alone, but right now she was grateful they weren’t here.

“I think you should look at this,” Toni says, and hands her the phone.

Cheryl pales against her already-pale skin. “Oh my god. This is...bad. This is really bad.”

Toni feels uncomfortably sobered, and wonders what to say.

“Do you think she knows already?” she tries, after a moment.

Cheryl’s eyes widen, then narrow a little. “No. We’d know, I think.”

She sighs, frowning. “Does that mean I have to be the one to tell her?”

Toni waits a moment. “I think...sooner is better than later. She’s definitely going to find out soon enough.”

Cheryl nods solemnly. “Do you mind –“ she starts and then her phone rings. There’s no mistaking the brief look of contempt that crosses her features as she looks at the caller ID. Toni recognises it from the last time she was in contact with her uncle.

Still, Cheryl picks up the call after two rings. “I have to take this privately,” she says shortly, walking towards the bathroom.

“Sure,” Toni says, mainly to herself, suddenly wishing she was back hanging out with the band. Hoping their days are going better than this one is turning out for her.

***

“Honestly, it’s crazy that I saw you here, I can’t believe it.” Veronica says, beaming, sitting on the bed against the pillows.

“It’s _unbelievable_ that I could get my band here?” Betty teases, sitting opposite on the end of the bed. She’d known the “I need to show you this thing in another room,” had been at least half just an excuse to hang out alone, but she doesn’t mind. She’s still kind of in awe that she’s here – talking with Veronica, of all people, again. It almost feels like she’s nineteen again. Then again, she feels very different to that nineteen year old, in a lot of ways.

Veronica shakes her head, laughing. “You know what I mean! It’s like – I don’t know that I believe in predestination or anything, but I would almost call it that.”

Betty beams. “Yeah, actually I get it. Even if we were both playing here – the chances of us just randomly running into each other...” she looks at Veronica. “I’m glad we did though.”

Veronica looks at her so warmly, and Betty really feels nineteen again as her heart awkwardly misses a beat. It’s kind of ridiculous, she thinks, that she’s here. This isn’t really her life. It’s going to suck to say goodbye to her again. The first time, she hadn’t even realised it was going to be such a long term goodbye until it was too late.

Veronica sighs. “God, I’m so sorry – I meant to keep in touch with you, and I know people say that and don’t mean it but I meant it, I _honestly_ did. It’s just things with my family moved very fast, and I had so much to do for school, I just –“ she explains, sounding remorseful.

Betty shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it, V. I had school too, remember? And a lot of other stuff that kind of kicked off after that, so I wasn’t the most responsive either.”

Veronica cringes. “Yeah, but I should have –“

Betty puts a hand over hers, “Seriously. Stop beating yourself up. It’s ok.”

Veronica smiles at her, a smaller one than she used to greet her and Toni earlier. This is the smile she recognises – a little more fragile, betraying a little more insecurity. Not that either is better, it’s just – different. Unexpected.

“You just – really helped me that night, you know? I don’t know what I would have – you kind of saved me. I wish I’d repaid that better,” Veronica says, quietly.

She wants to laugh it off, but she can’t. “Don’t forget ok – I wouldn’t...be who I am, with what I have, without your advice. You kind of saved me too, you know,” she replies, looking down at their hands.

She looks up. Veronica is looking at her like she had once before, at three-thirty am in the back of a New York City cab. Her heart beats uneven and fast.

Veronica leans forward just a little, as if to tell her a secret. She moves forward.

Then the door bangs open, and she’s startled back. Veronica looks annoyed at the person now striding up to them, although she guesses who it is before she sees her.

“Cheryl, what have I told you about boundaries? And knocking?” Veronica exclaims, impatiently.

Cheryl’s gaze flits to Betty and back. “I know, and sorry to interrupt... _this_....but I have to tell you something very important, and I think it’s best you hear it from me. Maybe in private?” she says, an oddly serious, sincere look on her face.

Veronica looks confused now, and more annoyed. “Cheryl, you’re freaking me out. And don’t be so dramatic, Betty’s not going to tell anyone anything. Trust me.”

Cheryl gives her an impatient look, then looks back to Veronica. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s your father  - he’s been arrested for fraud. I just found out.”

Veronica pales, and she puts a hand to her mouth, shocked speechless.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back! no guarantees for the time period in which chapter five will go up, but i'll try not to take forever, because now all the introductions are out of the way we can get to more plot stuff!


	6. 12:25pm-1:28pm//Back in time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's back in under a month! I personally, am very proud ;') I really liked writing this chapter, and as always, I hope it's enjoyable to you :))

**12:25pm**

 

Veronica’s head is spinning as she looks at the phone. That can’t be right. Her father can’t be – you can’t just be sitting talking to someone you haven’t seen in five years, and be on top of the world, and then just – how can it be possible? It doesn’t feel real.

 _My father has been arrested. My father has been arrested,_ she thinks, but it doesn’t make any more sense.

She considered briefly when Cheryl told her, that it was some kind of bizarre, bad-taste joke. Cheryl definitely has a dark sense of humour, but even for her, that would be an unnecessarily cruel joke. But she knows what it looks like when Cheryl is being serious, and when she’s telling the truth. It’s not a joke, or a lie.

“V?” Cheryl asks, seriously, and she looks up finally. Betty and Cheryl are watching her, looking worried for her.

“I’m – I’m ok,” she lies, handing the phone back, and trying to put on the “everything is fine” look that her mother passed down to her, and her mother passed down to her.

Cheryl doesn’t look convinced. “It’s ok if you’re not, V. It’s just me,” she replies matter-of-factly, casting a slight, but deliberate glance at Betty. She knows what it’s supposed to be conveying. _You’re intruding here,_ but she doesn’t feel like that at all.

She quickly turns to Betty, who looks uncomfortable. “I’m really sorry about your dad, V - I should probably go, I don’t want to intrude on your family stuff – “ she starts, and Veronica cuts her off.

“If there’s anyone other than Cheryl who knows all my ‘family stuff’ anyway, it’s you, girl. Please don’t go yet - At least, not because of me,” she implores Betty, who hesitates, then nods.

“As long as you want me to be here, I’m here,” she says, putting her hand lightly over Veronica’s.

“Don’t you have to perform at some point?” Cheryl breaks in, unable to keep a note of irritation out of her otherwise innocent voice.

“Cheryl?” she asks, warningly.

“What? I’m just asking,” Cheryl replies nonchalantly.

“Thanks for your concern, Cheryl. I don’t have to be at the stage until like three-thirty, though, so I’m alright for now,” Betty replies smoothly, looking at her with a polite, but firm smile. Veronica’s kind of impressed at how little she’s intimidated – she really has grown from the nineteen year old she met that night.

“Ok, well I’ll be in the next room if you need me,” Cheryl says, and Veronica can tell she’s put out but she can’t worry about that right now.

Something occurs to her and she sits up straighter. “My mother’s probably been trying to call! I have to find my phone. Where the hell did I leave it?”

She jumps up, looking around the bedroom. Betty gets up too. “What’s it look like? I can ask Toni if she’s seen it.”

She briefly forgets there’s another person in the other room, and asks “Toni? Oh, right – no, don’t worry. It’s probably out there, I just can’t remember where I put it down?”

She can’t tell whether it’s panic creeping up and obscuring her memory or something else, but it’s making her more and more anxious. Failing to find it in the bedroom, she goes into the next room where Cheryl is talking with Toni quietly. More importantly, she can’t see the phone on the table, or anywhere in the room.

“Cheryl, have you seen my phone? I can’t find it anywhere,” she says, aware of an edge of hysteria starting to creep into her words and trying to push it down.

Cheryl shakes her head, looking concerned. “No, I haven’t, but you can use mine if you need to?”

She nods. “I might, thanks,” she says, and spies her handbag on a chair. But it isn’t in there. “Damnit!” she snaps, throwing the bag down with more force than necessary, and feeling herself well up.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, willing herself not to cry, and feels Cheryl putting a steadying hand on her arm. She opens her eyes, and sighs. “I have to talk to her, and I don’t know what else to do.”

Cheryl gives her a fortifying look. Hers is a strange brand of sympathy, but she appreciates it. “We don’t have to do anything. Not even the show tonight, if you can’t face it.”

She shakes her head, having forgotten about the show entirely for a few minutes. “No, I mean I want to – well actually, I don’t – but I feel like I owe it to the people who came to see us, but I don’t want to give them a bad show – and everyone might have heard by then, oh God –“

Cheryl cuts her off. “If you don’t want to do it we don’t have to do it. If they know, they’ll understand it’s an emergency... If they don’t, they’ll just have to understand anyway. Sorry, but I care about you more than I care about them right now.”

She pauses, thinking. “I don’t know if we can even get out of it, though? We might be in breach of our contract with the organisers, and they could get us fined, or sue us, and I really don’t want to deal with that.”

Cheryl gives her a determined smile. “We know the organisers. I’ll go talk to Michael Sussman and see if we can drop out due to family emergency without breaching contract. You know that I’m good at getting people to tell me what I want to hear.”

Veronica smiles a little. “That would be really great, actually, Cheryl. Thank you.”

Cheryl looks over at Toni, still on the couch but looking awkward. “You wanna come help me browbeat a man? I could use you.”

“Alright, sure.” Toni nods, clearly happy to get away. Veronica can’t blame her – she just came here with a friend, and isn’t going to want to comfort a near-stranger about something she knows nothing about.

***

**12:26pm**

“So, now you know,” Kevin finishes, looking concerned. “So if she is thinking of pulling out of their set, we need to talk to her, because we need to know whether to move on or not.”

Josie nods, looking serious. “Well I can give her a call, but I don’t know her that well. She might not want to talk to anyone right now.”

“Well, it’s all we’ve got. I’ve been trying to get her manager on the phone, but it’s always engaged. I’ll keep working on it,” Kevin tells them, pragmatically. “The rest of you – I guess, just hang out and wait til Josie or I can give you an update.”

“I can do that,” Val tips her drink at him, and doesn’t move from her folding chair, pulling out a paperback and opening it.

Mel turns to Fangs. “You still good to hang out with us? If it’s getting too stressful over here you’re welcome to go back, but I think they’ll figure it out soon.”

Fangs can’t really say he saw his day ending up being part of a serious band meeting, for an actually-famous band that he wasn’t even in, learning about how the arrest of some rich businessman he’d never heard of, unrelated to anyone here actually affected the rest of their day and travel plans – but he can’t say that he’s not enjoying being a part of it, either. It’s nothing like he’s used to – Toni basically manages them, and has since they formed as sixteen year olds just practising in his abuela’s garage.

He looks at her, and grins. “Of course! Not that I don’t understand your situation. Well, not totally. I didn’t realise you were playing here, actually.”

Mel smiles. “Technically, we’re supposed to be a surprise guest. We did a song with Total Betty, and we were going to come out to perform that with them, just because we were already coming down this way before we start our tour.”

Fangs nods. “Ah, so you’re not sure if you still are. I think I remember that song. It was pretty big.”

Mel chuckles. “Y’know, I think you’re into pop music more than I would have assumed from your band. I thought you’d be all, ‘I only listen to this band, you haven’t heard of them because they’re local and they were formed a week ago, they really changed my life,’”

He laughs. “I know, right? Actually I never thought I’d play the kind of music I’m playing now. Which I love, but I grew up with like, early 2000s hip-hop and R&B, and I still love that, too. My friend got me into more indie-rock stuff, like, he is that guy. I used to find it so annoying, but it’s more endearing now we’ve known each other so long.”

She raises an eyebrow. “The bassist?”

He laughs again. “He’s got the look, doesn’t he?”

She nods, laughing. “Actually, I used to be that girl in high school. I used to only really listen to like, super indie, underground bands, and I was totally insufferable, probably. It was kind of the opposite with me and Josie, though – she kind of introduced me to the idea that just because it’s mainstream, doesn’t mean it’s bad. I would have totally missed out on a lot of great songs, and like, Beyonce if I hadn’t stopped being such an elitist about it.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t believe it. No Beyonce. Who are you?”

She shakes her head, laughing. “I know!”

She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up. “It’s too fuckin’ hot out here. Do you want to go into the bus and play videogames or something? We have aircon, and I think this is reasonable use of it.”

“Oh God, yes,” he says gratefully, and she chuckles again. Turning to face where Val’s sitting, she calls, “Hey, Val – wanna go back on the bus with us? We’re gonna play some video games, if you wanna join?”

Val puts down her books. looks her through at her mirrored aviators, and nods. “Right behind you.”

***

**12:35pm**

Of all the times to meet someone new, meeting them on the day they find out – not even from a family member, but from an online news article – that a family member of theirs has been arrested for a large-scale crime is not a great one. Toni feels for her – she seemed fun, and interesting and like she should be much less genuinely nice than she was – and she seemed to be completely stunned by the news. Even if she can’t imagine her father will maybe even go to jail, or be there long – he can afford a good lawyer. People at their level of wealth never really have to pay. Still, it’s not something she’d wish on anyone, in her experience.

Even though she’s sympathetic, she also jumped at the chance to get out of their suite. She’s sure that Veronica’s probably glad she left, too – it’s not like she wants a stranger hanging around while she’s having the worst day of her life, maybe.

Cheryl turns to her when they get a few feet away from the room.

“Ok, I know you only agreed to come with me just to get out of there,” she says matter-of-factly.

Toni wonders whether to lie, but just nods instead. Cheryl seems to appreciate this, smirking a little.

“Well, you can leave now, if you want. Go do whatever you were going to.” Cheryl says, regards her with interest. “But I meant it, I could use your help with this. I get the sense you know how to talk to people like this. You’re angry.”

She raises a sceptical eyebrow at this. “How would you know?”

Cheryl looks at her like it’s obvious. “You’ve got the same look in your eye. Maybe we’re angry about different things, but it’s the same glint.”

Toni regards her back, and smirks. “Alright. Let’s go browbeat a dude into letting you drop out of your contractual obligations.”

**12:38pm**

Walking back into the strangely decored – 60s Cali surf culture, of all the clichés – but thankfully air-conditioned lobby, Jughead sighs in relief. It’s all fine to have adherence to a layered, grungy, mostly dark-coloured look back in the general coldness of Portland, but he’s privately starting to regret not wearing shorts, or something, to a music festival in California. And that is horrifying to him, as he’s not sure he’s ever worn shorts in his life.

He takes his beanie off and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

Archie grins slightly. “I was wondering how you could be wearing a beanie in this weather. I thought it might have been fused to your head.”

Jughead rolls his eyes, but again, can’t help smirking. “Don’t get too excited, it’s going back on soon. It’s kind of an important part of the look,” he deadpans, and Archie’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah?” he grins. “Knit caps _are_ an important part of the Portland Hipster Bassist look, I guess.”

“As opposed to the committedly no-sleeves look of the Cali Band Bro?” he counters, archly. “All the better to show off your arms? Or your tats?”

Archie laughs. “Well, you’re the one talking about them, so clearly I’m doing something right,”

Jughead doesn’t expect this response, and feels himself going pink. “Uh, Toni didn’t tell me the room number, so I should probably text her or – “ he says, awkwardly fumbling for his phone.

“Jughead?”

He looks up, and there like he’d called her to him by name alone – like a tiny Beetlejuice in red plaid shorts – is Toni, with a dollishly beautiful, determined-looking redheaded girl he doesn’t recognise.

“Toni?” he replies, surprised for some reason. He had known she was here, after all, but it feels like she’s returned in very different circumstances as he saw her leave.

“So you were out there at the festival still?” she asks, sounding just as surprised. “I thought you’d gone back to our room.”

“No, I, uh, was actually looking for you. And Betty. We thought you were at the beer tent, then we came back here after you texted. Actually, Archie –“  he turns his head to ask Archie about it, and notices how he’s looking at Toni, smiling openly and charismatically, and remembers why he even went to the stupid beer tent in the first place.  

“Wanted to know where Betty was,” he finishes shortly, looking back at Toni.

“Yeah, actually what room is she in, I kinda need to talk to her?” Archie asks, but sounds less stressed than before. Of course he does. It’s only life and death that you need to talk to your friend until there’s a pretty girl to hit on.

The redheaded girl shares a strange, almost anxious, look with Toni and looks back at Archie. “She’s in 403 –“ she fixes him with an oddly intense look that doesn’t fit her docile-starlet image. “If you have to go there to talk to your friend, please don’t bother my friend Veronica. She’s – not having a good day.”

She says this in a sensible, unemotional way but the sense he gets from her words is so mysterious and dramatic he finds himself wondering who she is. He likes to keep an eye out for people who don’t fit the image they’re presenting, the oddities who are pretending not to be. He can relate.

“Uh – sure. Cool,” Archie replies, smile dropping a notch or two. He probably just thinks she’s weird.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re making friends, anyway.” Toni says in a lightly teasing tone, steering the conversation away. “I thought I’d have to drag him out of our room,” she adds, smirking, to Archie. “Archie, right? It’s nice to see you again, so soon.”

Archie grins more, again. “Yeah, he’s been so helpful today! We should totally catch up again while you’re here, though!”

Jughead cuts into this, surprised that Toni seems to be responding to this. Well. He’s not her brother, she’s free to do whatever she wants. Even if she could do better than some singlet-wearing bro. “I just helped him find the beer tent. It wasn’t that epic of a journey,” he says curtly.

Toni keeps smiling, but gives him a subtly scrutinising look. He knows that look. It says, “You’re not fooling me, something’s going on with you, and I’m going to figure it out.”

It’s extremely annoying. Sometimes she gets at things when they don’t exist, like now. Nothing’s wrong, except he’s sweaty and tired and wearing black skinny jeans.

He doesn’t look at Archie, who conspicuously hasn’t replied.

“Toni, if you’re still coming we have to go,” Cheryl insists, looking impatient.

“Well, it was nice of you to do, anyway.” Toni replies to him, then looks at Archie. “We have to go though – long story – but I’m sure we’ll all get another chance to hang out later!” she says, as Cheryl pulls her away.

Archie turns to him, but before he can say anything, Jughead pre-empts his question. “I’m gonna go back to my room, I’m kind of tired. If you think you can make it to the fourth floor unassisted?” he says quickly, and notices Archie looking sort of taken aback. It came out meaner than he really meant it.

“Oh, yeah, of course. Thanks for all your help, though, man,” he says, with a slightly unsure smile.

“Don’t mention it,” he drawls, looking at him and nodding briefly.

Archie nods awkwardly, and heads in the direction of the elevator. Which is the way he’d been planning to go.

 _Damnit,_ he thinks and turns in the other direction towards the rest of the lobby.

***

**12:46pm**

Archie reflects on what the redheaded girl had said to him as the elevator goes up. She’s familiar to him but he can’t figure out where he knows her from. Something’s definitely going on and it’s starting to irritate him that he feels like he’s missing a big piece of the puzzle.

Is it why Betty turned her phone off? That, he still doesn’t get. She’s usually the first to tell them to remember to keep their phones and loud enough to hear at big events, especially if they get split up. She’s always been that person, as far back as he’s known her.

_9 Years Ago_

_“It’s just a party – just tell your mom you’re sleeping over at a friend’s house_. _C’mon, it’ll be fun!” he wheedles her._

_She gives him a look. “Oh sure, just tell my mom a lie, like she’s not going to sniff that out in two seconds. You know what she’s like.”_

_He shrugs. “It works for me. My dad thinks I’m just going to play video games with Reggie. No questions asked.”_

_She looks at him strangely like she’s going to say something, but doesn’t. “I’m sure Reggie’s parents are fine with letting him go then?”_

_He nods. “They’re not going to be in the country this weekend, anyway, so he says I can crash at his place. He’s so lucky sometimes.”_

_“Lucky’s not what I’d call it,” she says, and he looks at her funny, but doesn’t get to say anything as he feels a hand slung around his shoulders._

_“Hey dudes, what are we talking about?” Reggie grins. “You convince her she has to come to the party with us yet?”_

_“You know I can’t, Reg. Why can’t you guys just go?” she replies, frowning. “I have to study, anyway.”_

_“You know, your parents are too hard on you. Just tell them you’re sleeping over at mine?” Reggie counters, and Betty laughs incredulously._

_“Tell Alice Cooper I’m gonna have a sleepover with two teenage boys? You’re kidding, right? I think she’d freak less about the party?” she says, shaking her head as she closes her locker door._

_“We have been your only friends since freshman year, you’d think she’d get used to it. It’s not like it’s anything weird.” Archie adds, feeling a little put-out._

_“Unlikely she’d think that.” Betty replies darkly._

_“Please just think about it? It’ll be so much more fun with all of us there,” Reggie grins._

_“Yeah, please?” Archie joins in, grinning too._

_She sighs. “I’ll see what I can do.”_

_He looks through the books he’s carrying and suddenly realises his bio notebook is missing._

_“Oh, come on! I thought I got it out of my locker before!” he says, before seeing it dropped onto the textbook he’s carrying._

_“You leant it to me, remember?” Betty says, looking amused._

_He looks at her gratefully. “What would I do without you?”_

_“Lose your notebooks, constantly. And I’d be doomed to explain to my dad about that time I fucked up my engine,” Reggie laughs._

_Betty laughs. “You’d be lost.”_

 

Archie’s shaken out of his reverie when his phone rings.

He almost jumps to answer when he sees Betty’s picture come up.

“Hey, I’ve been trying to call you for ages,” he starts.

“Sorry – where are you?” she replies quickly.

“Fourth floor, I’m coming up to 403, is that where you are?” he says walking down the corridor.

“Ok, can you wait outside? I’ll come out.”

“Oh – ok.” He replies.

Why is she going to this much trouble to – hide him from someone?

He sees her come out of one the suites at the end of the corridor. She’d told him before that the headliners are the only ones who get suites here.

But which headliners would she be hanging out with? And how –

At that moment he realises where he recognises the redheaded girl from – she’s in the pop duo, _Total Betty_ , which he only knows because their music is _everywhere,_ and it’s hard not to hear about when you’re in the music scene in L.A, even when they live on the opposite coast. And if she’s here, her gorgeous partner is probably around, too.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why’d you turn your phone off?” he asks, trying to strike a surprised, but not accusatory tone.

She doesn’t seem to buy it, already looking defensive. “Toni and I ran into an old friend of mine, we had a drink, that’s all. I don’t remember exactly when I turned my phone off, but it’s not like it’s been that long, right?” she says, in a casual, reasonable tone that only builds his irritation.

“It’s been almost two hours since I last saw you, but sure. Just – can you keep your phone on? So I don’t have to physically barge in on whatever’s going on here?” he says, attempting to take the tension out of his voice with a weak chuckle.

She looks at him, like she wants to say something, but is thinking better of it. He knows that one well. Instead she breaks into a half-smile that’s almost apologetic, but she still looks faintly irritated.

“Sorry you had to come here. I didn’t realise you’d need me so soon – what do you need to talk to me about?” she says, nicely, but he notices she doesn’t say sorry for turning her phone off.

It’s like she’s a mirror version of herself, because the Betty he knows makes schedules, and plans, and is the one who gets them places. She’s not the person who is surprised he might need to touch base with her on the day of a major performance, or who goes AWOL before making any plans to meet back up.

“I –“ he starts, then gets distracted by a thought. “You’re not friends with the girls from _Total Betty_ are you? I feel like you would have told me that,” he says, trying for a light tone.

She looks surprised, and then worried. “Technically, I only know one of them, but it was a long time –“ she shakes her head, and he is intrigued, but she doesn’t continue the story. “Don’t spread it around ok, but my friend is going through a kind of tough time. I kind of need to be there for her right now,” she says, sounding concerned.

A mean voice in his head says, _oh you really ‘need to be there’ for a friend you’ve never mentioned, but you can’t answer your best friend’s calls, about your shared, important commitment that is happening in a few hours? Great._

He pushes it down.

“Sure, but we need to meet up soon. For our show, in case you forgot,” he says, and can’t help the ending of the sentence slipping out, meaner than he meant to be.

She narrows her eyes, surprised and gearing up to be annoyed. He knows that look well, too. “I think it’s unlikely that I would forget, Arch, since I wrote the itinerary. We only need to be at the stage at 3:30, right? So, if you and Reggie can find your way there, I will meet you there on the dot. Let me know if you need my map, though,” she says carefully, but he’s certain that last barb was no accident.

“Great,” he says casually, not attempting to lighten the mood.

“Great,” she replies, polite but not smiling. “Can you tell Reggie?”

He nods, then looks at her. “Tell your friend – I hope she feels better soon,”

Her expression softens, slightly. “Thanks, I will. See you soon, then.”

“See you then,” he says, and turns around, feeling like there’s something worse coming on the horizon.

*

He decides to head back to the room, because he’s feeling tired, and also so he can let Reggie know if he’s there. Or hopefully he’s had the sense to keep his phone on.

When he gets to the room, though, he finds the door locked.

“Fucking...” he curses it under his breath, and knocks loudly on the door. “Reggie! This is a shared room!” he yells through the door.

He’s pretty sure he knows what Reggie’s doing on the other side of the door – though he can’t hear anything but distantly muffled voices – and doesn’t know that he even wants to go in. But his frustration levels for the day are being maxed out, what with Betty being unusually callous and the new friend he thought he’d made going cold and brushing him off as soon as he saw one of his actual friends, and now this bullshit. He just wants to sit down, and now he can’t even to do that.

He knocks harder, just because it feels good to take it all out on something. “Reggie! Come on!”

He hears something that sounds like a muffled “ _GET LOST!”_ in Reggie’s distant voice from the room.

Out of frustration and maybe a little spite, he calls Reggie, only thirty-percent expecting him to pick up.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Archie, what do you want?” Reggie picks up the phone on the fifth ring, sounding annoyed, but also too slow and stoned to care too much.

Of course he is. “Nothing, just we have a show in like two and a half hours, and no one seems to care. And I have nowhere to go, because you locked me out of my room. Other than that, all good.” he snipes, out of patience.

Reggie breathes out a sigh. “Sorry, dude. You know how it is. You get first dibs on using the room next time,” he says, and hears someone snicker in the background. “Where does Betty need us? Do you know?”

Archie runs a hand through his hair, feeling tired. “She says to meet at the North Stage at 3:30pm. You’ll be there, right?”

“Pfft. Of course I will,” Reggie replies, like he’s the most reliable guy in the world. Or even the general area. “I’m gonna have to go. You know. Things to see, people to –“ Archie hears someone chuckle again, and the line goes dead.

“Argh!” he shouts to the empty hallway.

He doesn’t feel like going back to the festival yet, so he decides to head down to the lobby and see if he can find somewhere to relax for an hour or so.   

***

**1:02pm**

“Talk to you soon, we’ll get through this. Bye, Mom,” Veronica says soothingly, and hangs up. She sinks down onto the couch tiredly, and hands the phone back to Betty.

“How is she?” Betty asks, even though it can hardly be good. Veronica looks touched though, and little calmer than earlier now.

“Well, she’s pretty stressed, but apparently she’s meeting with the lawyer in the morning, so she’s not losing it, yet,” Veronica says, and sighs. “I don’t even know if she knew he was being investigated? But it wouldn’t be unlike her to lie to me about it.”

“Yeah, I’m with you there. That’s kind of second nature to my mom,” Betty sympathises, frowning slightly.

Veronica lets out a sort of tired half-laugh. “Is that part of being a mother? Just deliberately deceiving your children, well into their adulthood?”

Betty smiles grimly. “Must be. I guess it’s an inherited behaviour?”

Veronica shakes her head. “Not for me, girl. If I ever have children, I’m going to break that cycle.”

Betty feels her smile softening. “Yeah, well if you do, I don’t think you’ll have much to worry about. I think you’d make a good mother.”

Veronica just smiles, and momentarily looks as carefree as she did this morning. “Thanks for letting me borrow your phone, B. It’s really been a weight off my mind to at least be able to talk to my mom, see how she’s coping.”

Betty smiles. “Of course. You still can’t find it?”

Veronica’s smile fades a little. “No, I really have no idea where it is. But I remember bringing it back here, so I don’t think I lost it at the festival?”

Betty furrows her brow. “That is odd. I hope it turns up soon.”

Veronica nods. “You’re telling me.”

They sit in silence for a moment, until Veronica looks at her. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing, trying to get out of this show?” she asks, quietly.

Betty looks back at her, and smiles gently. “The right thing? I’d say right now, that’s just looking after you right now. I’d say you have a pretty reasonable excuse.”

Veronica smiles, kind of wistfully. “There you go, looking after me again. Telling me the right thing to do. Why didn’t I keep in touch with you?”

Betty shakes her head. “We’ve been through this, it was both of us.”

Veronica keeps looking at her. “I should have been the one to start it, though.”

Betty finds she doesn’t have an answer to this.

 

**_5 Years Ago_ **

_“You know when you said you had something in mind, I didn’t really think this would be it?” Veronica says, surprised, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue so as not to wreck her makeup any more._

_“If you don’t want to, we can go somewhere else, I just thought it might be –“ Betty wavers, wondering why she thought this would be a good idea._

_Veronica shakes her head. “No, no it’s – it’s great.”_

_She pays the cab driver, not listening to Betty’s protests, and gets out of the cab and runs onto the grass. Betty runs after her._

_She smiles at Betty, already looking happier. “I haven’t been this far down in forever. I’ve definitely never been to this park.”_

_Betty looks back at her, surprised. “Really? You don’t even go to Brooklyn? I don’t even think I could afford to live there it’s so expensive.”_

_Veronica shrugs. “My whole life is in Manhattan. In fact, it’s pretty much the Upper East Side...” she trails off, and her eyes get misty._

_She still hasn’t said anything really about what’s upset her, or why she doesn’t want to go home, but Betty figures she will when she’s feeling more comfortable, so she just talked about herself on the cab ride here. Veronica seemed to find it interesting._

_They find a place to sit, and look out at the river, and the lights of the Brooklyn Bridge very nearby._

_“So, do you come to this park a lot? It’s a long way to go from your work, right?” Veronica asks, looking back at her._

_“I’m only here on work experience, so my college is paying for my accommodation but they aren’t paying Manhattan prices. I mean, it’s lucky they’re paying Brooklyn prices to be honest.” Betty says, thinking already about how much she’s going to miss her very small student accommodation room when she goes home. “I come to this park sometimes to get some air. Well, as much as you can in a city. It’s kind of nice to just sit here for a while.”_

_Veronica nods. “Yeah, I have places like that. I’m usually so busy though, I don’t have time to just go to the park by myself.”_

_Betty smiles ruefully. “Tell me about it. This experience has been amazing, but it’s been hard work. I guess that’s what I have to look forward to in the future.”_

_Veronica nods again, frowning, and looks out at the water. Betty wonders whether she should just ask._

_“Look, you don’t have to tell me,” she begins, quietly. “But I’ll listen if you want to...talk about it.”_

_Veronica looks at her, wiping her eyes again. “I just – do you ever feel like, I don’t know – you spent all this time trying to make the right decisions, because you had this idea of your life, and your parents, and then something just makes you question all of it?”_

_Betty could almost laugh, if she didn’t think it would be interpreted as mocking and not empathetic. “Oh, yeah. You don’t even know.”_

_Veronica seems emboldened by this. “Good to know.” She sighs. “I’m not trying to be the poor little rich girl, but I – I had this bad fight with my father, and like, we never fight. I fight with my mother, and I make up with my mother, rinse, repeat, but my father and I – I’ve always been his girl, and we never fight...I mean, sometimes he’s strict but never unfairly, and he’s really generous. But this fight – I don’t know, I feel like he’s this different person.”_

_She breaks off and looks down. Betty doesn’t know Veronica’s father more than her vague glimpses of him with her, coming out of the building where he works – but they had seemed very close._

_“I’m really – sorry about that,” Betty starts, not sure exactly what to say._

_Veronica sniffs and looks back at Betty, expression half-hidden in the gloom of the rapidly darkening sky above. “You know what, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. And, I want carbs. I want to eat some garbage food for once! God, I want a burger.”_

_Betty smiles. “I think I know somewhere we can go. It’s close by.”_

_*_

_Veronica had been kind of apprehensive about the dive bar when they’d come in, sitting down in the booth seat gingerly, but once they’d gotten their fries and burgers, she seemed to relax._

_“Jesus fuck, this is a good burger! Or maybe it’s just because I haven’t had a burger in like, three years. I don’t know, sometimes I would give up fitting into couture sizes just to eat like this more.” Veronica says rapturously, halfway through her burger._

_Betty chuckles. “You don’t say.” It’s one of those comments that reminds her how different their lives are – it’s not like she eats like this all the time, but she eats takeout fairly regularly and the most expensive dress she’s ever worn was probably for prom. It makes her wonder how much work goes into being Veronica Lodge. She certainly looks different today, with her smudged make-up and red-rimmed eyes, eating a burger like she hasn’t seen food in two days. Betty can’t say the reasons for this are good, but it’s humanising, endearing in a way that she secretly appreciates._

_Veronica takes a sip of her Corona, and sighs. “God, beer and carbs in a dive bar in Dumbo. If you had told me twenty four hours ago that this is where I’d be, girl, I would have thought you were completely insane.” Her fake ID looked professional, and Betty’s was reasonable enough to pass here, so they’d been able to get drinks pretty easily._

_Betty picks at her fries. “And here I thought you liked this place.”_

_Veronica looks at her, amused but apologetic, too. “No, I do. It’s just – been a long day.”_

_Betty takes a sip of her drink, and then pauses. “So – you don’t have to tell me, but what...what was the fight about? Maybe, I don’t know, I can help?”_

_Veronica looks at her for a moment, takes a steadying sip of beer, then nods. “Well, I guess I have to explain some things, first. I don’t really ask my father about business stuff much, and that’s always been fine. He and my mother have always provided me with every opportunity to succeed, and so I’ve repaid that by working very hard – I know I have these privileges but there are still barriers to success for someone like me.” She stops, and concentrates on her beer label for a moment. Betty doesn’t rush her to speak._

_She looks up, defiantly. “I worked really hard in school, and I worked really hard to get accepted at Juilliard! I had to go through the same process as anyone, and they don’t take many students every year. I don’t mind saying that I’m talented! I earned my place there, and I work so hard to keep it that way,” she bursts out, some unspoken unfairness clearly ripping at her, bleeding through her words_

_Betty doesn’t exactly know what to make of this, but gets the sense something is being justified to her right now, before she hears the story._

_“I’ve heard they’re very selective, so I’m sure you – deserve to be there,” she replies, wondering if this is the right thing to say._

_Veronica nods, seemingly distracted in telling the story now._

_“My father’s business does a lot of things, and I guess I never asked much about it. I think, everyone wants to believe their father wouldn’t – that they’re a good person, you know?” she says, voice cracking on this last thought. She sniffs, and takes another steadying drink._

_“So his business owns some properties around New York – mostly office buildings I thought, but also some residential ones. Two days ago, this woman came up to me on the street, and she called to me by name. She knew who I was.” Veronica looks shaken even recounting this story, and Betty is engrossed, although feeling a sort of dread as well. “She told me to ask my father how he sleeps at night. She said her whole family, and their whole apartment block were being evicted, because his company was going to knock the building down and build better, more expensive apartments there.”_

_She takes a breath and looks at Betty. “I know, he already sounds evil. But he’s – he’s so warm, and so generous – he’s the guy who talks to everyone at the party! He makes everyone laugh! He threw me the most amazing quinceañera when I was fifteen. He got Maroon 5 to play! Which was still past their ‘This Love’ era, so it was ok, and Adam Levine is kind of creepy, actually –“ she giggles, and Betty can’t help giggling at the mental image too. She looks back at Betty. “But you know what I mean?”_

_Betty nods, more seriously._

_Veronica’s eyes cloud over. “I didn’t want to believe this woman, but she told me the name of her building. I barely had to search for it online, and I found a news article about the plans. There in black and white, proof. And I thought to myself, maybe this is something one of his VPs or whatever is doing, and he’s working on something else. I just hoped –“ she cuts herself off with a jagged gasp, and Betty’s hand inadvertently extends to hers._

_Veronica looks grateful for the comfort, though. She sighs. “So I went to see him this morning, for one of our usual lunches. I thought I’d be very rational about it all, and I was sure he’d deny it – but first he kind of brushed me off, tried to get me to talk about trivial things,” she looks hard at the nearly empty beer bottle. “I never felt like he was patronising me when I talked about my life, except then. And I bring it up again, and he asks why I care, and I tell him, and I show him the article. And he fucking – he admits it. But he says, there are plans in place for these people, and I just – doubt it’s enough!” she raises her voice, fury alighting in her eyes._

_“So I tell him, it’s not enough, and that I can’t believe he would do something so uncaring, so cruel to these people who are already poor, already marginalised,” she says, bitterness leeching into her voice now, and Betty can tell it’s coming. “And he rounds on me, and tells me that it’s all fine when it pays for my lifestyle, and my school and – and when it can get me into a highly exclusive performing college in exchange for a large donation!” She spits furiously, tearing up as she glares a hole into the table._

_Neither of them say anything for a moment. Veronica looks up, and now she looks ashamed, somehow. “And now I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know if I really am deserving of my place at school, I don’t know if I’m even as talented as I thought. I don’t know who my parents are anymore, especially my father. And I don’t know how to keep living my life when my father is doing this to people, because doesn’t that make me complicit? At least in reaping the benefits?”_

_Betty nods, taking this in. “Wow. I understand why you wanted to get out of there now.”_

_Veronica half-laughs, mirthlessly. “Yeah.”_

_“I don’t know if I can give you definite answers,” she begins, looking at Veronica empathetically. “The people being hurt by your father – I don’t know. Maybe you could petition someone to stop them from knocking it down? Put more pressure on your father? That’s a difficult one. And unfortunately, if you want to finish your studies, you’re going to have to accept that money from him. It sucks, but one day soon, you’ll be making your own, and you can untether yourself from it. Maybe you can do something to help people like that woman.”_

_Veronica nods, looking pensive. “I’d like to. I have no idea what – I’m a music/theatre arts major, I don’t know anything about the law that I didn’t learn from watching Legally Blonde with my roommate.”_

_Betty smiles at this. “Are you close?”_

_Veronica nods, smiling nostalgically, softly. “Yes. She’s overseas right now, or I feel like I would have run straight back home to see her. Unfortunately for you, because I kind of hijacked your night. I just – I couldn’t stand being at home, alone.”_

_“Hey, I don’t mind so much. The hijacking,” Betty replies, warmly, and then realises her hand is still on Veronica’s. She darts it back, and Veronica looks at her funny. “Sorry, that was – it’s probably sweaty by now...” she mutters, awkwardly._

_Veronica accepts this, but gives her a curious look._

_Betty looks back up at her. “As for the parent thing – I totally get it, actually. Like, I know it’s hard to believe someone who says that, but recently –“ she sighs, looking at the centre of the table, and then looks back up. “My mom – I love her, but she’s kind of, well, intense – so my Dad was always my person, too. He always seemed to be like good, and righteous, and he drove me to ice-skating lessons and we always stopped at the diner on 57 thafterwards for milkshakes. So, I totally get that.” _

_Veronica looks empathetic and sad, now, and Betty realises to her horror that her eyes are getting hot with tears. She blinks them away._

_“But recently, my sister – who is two years older than me – got pregnant to her boyfriend, and she was still living at home. She’s not studying, so she works as a receptionist back home. And while I might not love her choice of guys – “ Betty takes a breath, and reminds herself that Pete loves Polly, even if he is an idiot, and she should be more respectful of that. Veronica’s lips quirk slightly at this, as if she’s reading her mind._

_“Even if that, and my fear that she’s way to young to be a mother – I only ever wanted her to do what was best for her. If that meant not having it, I would support her, if it meant having it, same again.”  Betty can feel her eyes watering again and looks at the vintage advertisements displayed on the wall, blinking. She looks back at Veronica, who looks slightly apprehensive. “But I came home from college one weekend – I go to Northwestern, it’s not that far from my parents house in Chicago – and Polly’s moved out, and my parents are fighting and my mom storms out, and my dad is being weird. He won’t tell me what’s going on, really, and it just feels really wrong. And Polly’s not answering my calls. Then, later she calls and asks if we can meet up because she wants to talk to me.”_

_Betty gulps. Veronica looks invested but apprehensive, the way she felt earlier._

_“So what did she say to you?” she asks, worriedly._

_“She met me outside this old block of flats, and she says this is where she’s living now. With Pete.” Betty pauses, feeling the stress of it all coming back, tightening her chest. “And we go up to her apartment, which is barely unpacked but filled with boxes, and I say you moved out? Why are Mom and Dad freaking out?”_

_She frowns, and takes a drink. “She tells me that Dad tried to talk her into a getting an abortion. Trying to tell her that there was all this stuff she wouldn’t get to do, and she didn’t want to be trapped in this relationship, and it would ‘look bad’ on the family,”_

_She makes a noise of disgust. Veronica looks pretty angry on her behalf. “Like, sure, I was a little horrified when she told me she wanted to have the baby. I get the fear. But that’s what she always said she wanted! He wasn’t doing it for her. He was doing it for him. So he wouldn’t have to maybe be financially responsible for her child. He’s so weird about money, and ‘family honour’, and it’s not like we’re the fucking royal family of England – he’s comfortably middle-class but he’s so damn weird about it...and that was what led to my mom kicking him out, and me not speaking to him for the last few months.”_

_She breathes out, realising she hasn’t actually gotten this off her chest in this way before. Sure, her friends know the basics, but she doesn’t like bringing them down when she actually gets to come back from college and see them, so she doesn’t rant like this to them._

_Veronica looks empathetically angry for her. “Fucking hell, B,  family can be a nightmare can’t it?”_

_Betty chuckles darkly. “You’re telling me.”_

_“I think we’re gonna need stronger drinks, then.”_

***

**1:06pm**

Sweet Pea blows smoke out, and looks up at the ceiling. Reggie nuzzles his neck lazily. 

“I’m gonna have a bruise, c’mon,” he complains, but he’s too relaxed to put any bite in the words.

Reggie grins up at him evilly. “That’s kinda the point, dude.”

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes, smirking around the joint.

“You want this? It’s almost done,” he asks, and Reggie grins, takes the joint from his lips and kisses him all in one quick, fluid motion.

He lies against the pillow for a moment, and just watches Reggie smoking what’s left, as he gets his breath back.

It’s ridiculous, Reggie is ridiculous, and Sweet Pea almost wishes he didn’t now know just how much it works for him.

He’s not just stupidly handsome – emphasis on the _stupidly_ he would have thought, irritably, earlier – though that’s no small part of it, to be honest. But he’s funny, surprisingly. And good to talk to.

Maybe it’s just been a while since he’s unwound in this particular way.

Reggie looks back at him, and smiles. Not a smirk, a genuine smile that makes Sweet Pea want to kiss him, intensely, but he doesn’t.

“Nice to see you so relaxed. You looked pretty tightly wound earlier,” Reggie says slowly, still smiling.

“Tightly-wound? Excuse you?” he replies, attempting indignation and failing because he can’t help grinning.

Reggie chuckles softly. “Been a long time?”

He laughs. “Fuck off,”

Reggie smirks more at this, reaching a hand over his arm and running it down the top of his spine. He shivers inadvertently, and rolls his eyes in an attempt to still seem unimpressed. “Ok, fine. It’s been a while. I’ve kind of been busy.”

Reggie laughs at this, but not cruelly. “So have I, but I find the time. Glad I could help,” he says, nonchalantly, like he was doing a favour.

“Oh, fuck right off,” he scoffs, shaking his head, and launches himself at Reggie in a tackling motion. Reggie lets out a surprised yelp of laughter that’s soon muffled by Sweet Pea’s kisses.

His surprise attack over and successful, he curls into Reggie’s side with a content smirk on his face.

“So you know I have to ask...” Reggie begins softly, looking up at the ceiling.

“Mm?” he replies, more interested in nuzzling kisses into Reggie’s neck and broad shoulder.

“The name. It’s not your real name, right? Did they give it to you because of your sweet, sweet kisses?” he finishes, teasingly. Sweet Pea nips at his skin for this, just hard enough to hear his surprised yelp, and feel him shiver.

He gets up on his elbows, smirking at Reggie. Reggie’s pupils are dark and dilated, and he smiles back at him lazily. “Of course not, I’ve had it since I was a kid.”

Reggie grins. “Aw. C’mon then. Tell me the story.”

He shakes his head, grinning. “There’s barely anything to tell.”

Reggie reaches an arm up to pull him back down, so they’re lying down, facing each other again. “C’mon dude. There’s a story.”

He sighs. “Alright, fine. I was kind of a difficult kid, when I was little. I moved around a lot.” He is surprised that he’s even agreed to tell this story. That’s twice he’s talked about his itinerant childhood with this stranger, which he just doesn’t do. Reggie is absent-mindedly tracing the tattoo on the bicep Sweet Pea’s not lying on with a finger, looking interested.

He glosses over the reason why. It tends to kill the mood to talk about your junkie mother. “So I got to this n­ew school in Portland, and I’m thirteen, and I’m angry and I’m being a brat to the teacher, and she says – and she’s beaming at me, she can’t have been much older than forty – and she goes, _well aren’t you a sweet pea_. She never got mad even though I was totally being a little shit,” he laughs a little at the memory.

Reggie looks surprised. “And it stuck? You let people call you that?”

Sweet Pea nods. “Yeah, well that and no one wanted to befriend the weird, angry new kid, surprisingly – except this tiny, bossy girl who just started calling me it, and decided we were friends. She and her very quiet best friend were the only people saying it like I was already their friend, and so it just kind of stuck. Honestly, I’d rather it than people call me by the name my mom gave me,” he says, and again realises he’s said too much.

“Why not? Is it bad?” Reggie asks, curious.

Sweet Pea shrugs away. “Just, I don’t like it. Whatever.”

Reggie seems to pick up on the signal, and says quietly, “Yeah, I get you. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have my Dad’s last name. I’m kind of letting it down, according to him.” 

Sweet Pea turns back to him. “Kind of fucked, isn’t it? I don’t even have any of my dad’s names. Not that I’d want them.” He’s done it again, but this time he somehow doesn’t feel embarrassed. Reggie looks at him with wide, fascinated eyes and kisses him fiercely. It feels like he’s underwater, pleasantly and deeply high and barely breathing in the need to keep kissing, keep close to him.

Breaking apart feels like breaching the surface of the water, and he lies his head against Reggie’s, breathing.

“So, the little girl and boy in the story...” Reggie starts after a while. “That was your friend, Toni, and the bassist?”

Sweet Pea huffs a laugh. “No, it was Fangs, and her.”

Reggie grins. “Fangs, I should’ve guessed. Did she give you all your nicknames?”

He tries to shake his head, against the pillow. “Just me, and him. Jughead already had his when we met him. That was like two years after I got to school, I think it was a family nickname that had kind of just stuck.”

Reggie nods. “I gotta find that out some time.”

Sweet Pea snickers. “Yeah, good luck. He’s not exactly friendly to strangers.”

Reggie looks at him curiously. “So you’ve known him since you were fifteen?”

He narrows his eyes hazily. “Yeah?”

Reggie looks away and then back at him, something chaotic and curious in his eyes. “How long – have you liked him, then?”

Sweet Pea retreats, taken aback. “What – I – he’s my friend, it’s not – it’s not like that!”

Reggie moves forward. “I wasn’t trying to offend you – if you want to drop it, sure, but I am basically a stranger, so I’m not gonna run and tell him if it is. And it makes me a pretty good listener – if there was anything to talk about.”

Maybe it’s the warmth of the bed, or the cloudy haze his brain is feeling right now, but that makes an odd kind of sense. “I – you’re – I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he says slowly. “I – don’t know. Maybe.” Reggie smiles, but it’s not mocking. “If I did – and I’m not saying I do – I would say I don’t know when. Maybe when we’d known each other too long. It’s not like it matters. We’re friends. We’re like – family. You don’t do that,” he says, wondering why he’s just telling this guy everything, and why he doesn’t mind.

Reggie smirks a little at this. “You’ve never hooked up with one of your friends? Never?”

He narrows his eyes, tries not to say anything and instantly fails miserably. “No, I never – well,” he drawls, stretching the word out. “Fangs and I got really drunk after a party in senior once, and we kissed – but we both knew even then that it would be a terrible fucking idea, and we haven’t regretted it since. There’s a saying for a reason,”

Reggie’s smirk grows. “I knew it! Honestly, I don’t get what the issue is. Sometimes you’ve got to hook up with friends to get that out of your system, and be a better friend to them without anything getting in the way.”

Sweet Pea can’t help grinning, momentarily speechless. “You’ve hooked up with all your friends? How is that possible?”

Reggie scoffs. “Not _all_ my friends. Just the best ones.”

“You are fucking _kidding_ , right? You have _not_ hooked up with – both of them, right?” he laughs, mildly horrified but finding it amusing.

Reggie laughs. “Dude, chill, I’ve known them since I was a freshman, they’re not exactly recent experiences,” he hesitates. “Well...”

Sweet Pea tries to imagine which one _is_ the potentially recent one. The blonde girl is cute, but seemed (from his short experience talking to her) like she saw him like a brother she had to be responsible for more than anything. Which left Swole Sheeran...

He groans, looking at Reggie. “Really? The guy who was banging on the door, and ringing you before? Is _that_ what that was about?”

Reggie laughs. “No, it wasn’t! Are you jealous?” he teases.

Sweet Pea scowls at him. “No, but like...how recently?”

Reggie laughs, and puts a hand on his arm. “It’s been weeks, I don’t know. Maybe four? It’s not like we’re getting married, dude. It’s just easier, sometimes than going out and finding someone. Especially when you’re touring.”

Sweet Pea notices, through the haze of his brain, that Reggie’s putting up that bro-ey front when he says this.  He smirks at Reggie. “Especially because you like him.”

Reggie looks at him funny. “Sure, I like him. He’s my best friend.”

Sweet Pea gets up on his elbow again, and shakes his head. “I was honest with you, ok? Takes one to know one.”

Reggie sighs. “I knew it, just saying.” Sweet Pea frowns, realising he didn’t qualify any of that truth.

“Ok, sure, maybe a bit. But – it’s not like – I’m not like, _in love_ with him,” Reggie muses, frowning at him. “I just – it’s nice to have someone there, sometimes. Who I’ve known a long time.”

 Sweet Pea nods, and thinks about it for a moment. Sure, the comfort must be nice but the thought of what doing something like that to the band would do is horrifying. Not to mention to his friendships.

He looks at Reggie, pensively. “Doesn’t it make things weird in-band?”

Reggie shrugs. “No, it’s fine. Archie’s good actually, it’s Betty that’s always on my back about something.” He makes a face. “I’m bored of talking about this,” he says and pulls Sweet Pea into a kiss with both hands.

Sweet Pea doesn’t mind so much. A few minutes later, Reggie pulls away, grinning. Sweet Pea pulls at him lazily to come back. “I’ve had an idea. Give me a minute, and I’ll be back.”

He disappears into the bathroom. Sweet Pea grins, looking up at the ceiling again. It’s been a long time, really, since he’s had this – it’s the kind of thing that’s soberly he’d be embarrassed to admit, even to himself – that he’s missed it. Not just one night stands, actually – talking. Being with someone. Even if it’s just for now.

 _Fuck, I’m too high if I’m thinking about this,_ he thinks, smiling to himself.

Reggie comes back, holding a package that reminds him of something, hazily. It’s the same one he had this morning, he remembers. He can’t really tell what it is, in the dim light.

“What’s that?” he asks, grinning idly. He wonders if he’ll have to get up for this or whether he can just stay here, and maybe nap. Is that weird for a random hook-up?

Reggie smirks at him. “I’m getting there, ok?”

Still smirking he pulls out of the package, a very small plastic Ziploc bag filled with a white powder. “If you want, I was thinking we could take this party further.” He raises an eyebrow, rakishly .

Sweet Pea sits up, feeling a familiar nausea swirling in his gut. “Wait, what?” he asks, slowly.

Reggie picks up that he doesn’t seem interested, quickly. “Dude, I’m not trying to pressure you – just thought it might be fun to do some together. But if you’re not into it, that’s cool,” he backpedals smoothly, still smiling. Sweet Pea is reminded of how eminently punchable that face is.

Reggie puts the packet down, and reaches out an arm to Sweet Pea, who pulls back instinctively. He can barely understand what just happened, but he knows he doesn’t want to be near this person right now.

Reggie registers this quickly, and frowns, hurt clearly visible in his eyes. “What’s going on with you?” he starts, defensively. “Is it the drugs? Because you’d have more of a case if you’d hadn’t spent the last fucking hour letting me smoke you up.”

Sweet Pea gasps, infuriated by this shitty logic. “Are you fucking _kidding me_? It’s quite a fucking step from a smoking a joint every so often, with friends, to doing lines! I can’t fucking _believe this_!”   

He gets up, kicking the sheet off and searches for his underwear and jeans. Which is not generally dignified at the best of times, but especially not when extremely angry and vulnerably naked.

“Hey, hey don’t – I don’t get why you’re being so fucking moralistic about this! Like you’ve never done anything harder than weed!” Reggie spits out, caught off guard and seemingly furious about this.

Pulling on his jeans after finally finding them half buried under the bed, he snarls back at Reggie. “No, I haven’t. I can’t believe I slept with a _fucking junkie_!”

This lands right on target, and Reggie glares at him, so indignantly you’d think he’d just been accused of being a neo-Nazi. “I’m not fucking – junkie, you psycho! You are so overreacting to this, it’s not like I’m dealing it!”

Middle-class and rich boys who grew up in nice houses in nice neighbourhoods have such a stupid idea of what a “drug addict” looks like – it’s a very specific kind of drug, it’s a very specific kind of person. So they never fucking think it looks like them.

He straightens up, and looks Reggie in the eye – who is now standing with the sheet wrapped around him like a towel, perhaps feeling uncomfortably exposed as well.

“Fuck, I really don’t give a shit what you do. But I really should have fucking _known_ from the moment I met you. You were wrecked then. Should have _fucking known,_ ” he hisses, too angry to even shout.

This hits too, he can tell, and Reggie doesn’t say anything – just stares in speechless fury as he picks up his shirt and drags it on roughly.

“Well, that’s fucking fine, dude, because I’m not really into puritanical assholes like you!” he finally calls to Sweet Pea’s back. Sweet Pea doesn’t reply, just picks up his boots and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid. You goddamn idiot._ He thinks as he reaches the elevator, breathing hard and trying to ignore the prickling at the back of his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAMA! Can't promise an update date but will attempt to keep up my steady writing pace, hahaha


	7. 1:00-1:45pm//don't look back in anger

**1:07pm**

After wondering the lobby for a few minutes, Archie comes upon the cutely-named Seafoam Cafe, and decides it’s the only place he’s going to be able to sit down in a semi-private venue. He doesn’t feel like walking back to the festival right now, what with his mood all but ruined by the various ways his bandmembers are being self-centred.

He orders a coffee from the counter and scans the tables for somewhere to sit. He’s got most of the  café to choose from – it is unsurprisingly quiet, what with most of the hotel’s guests and visitors over at the festival – and sees a familiar beanie in the corner.

He hesitates, then heads over. “Jughead?“

 Jughead looks up from writing in a battered old notebook. “You’re...back,” he says casually, like he’s talking about the weather.

“Yeah, I saw you over here and thought I’d say hi...” Archie replies uncertainly.

“Oh. Hi,” Jughead replies shortly.

Archie takes the hint, if he hadn’t heard it clear enough before. “Ok, cool,” he says, awkwardly and turns around.

Or he means to take the hint. But maybe it’s just his mood, but he turns back. 

“Did I do something to offend you before?” he asks carefully, trying to not sound aggressive.

Jughead looks surprised. “I – no. You didn’t,” he says, awkwardly.

Archie looks at him sceptically. “Look, I know we don’t know each other, so it’s fine, but just – I enjoyed talking to you. Then I felt like you went cold as soon as we got back here.”

Jughead looks uncomfortable, doesn’t say anything.

“Sorry, I’m probably taking some stuff out on you. I’m gonna go wait over there,” Archie says, feeling childish and embarrassed.

“Uh – no I’m sorry. If I was being rude,” Jughead blurts out. “You can... sit here if you want,”

Archie smiles, in spite of himself. “You sure?”

Jughead gets a familiarly sardonic look on his face, which says something, given they’ve barely known each other for more than an hour. “Just sit, ok?”

Archie grins a little more.

“So, did you catch up with her?” Jughead asks.

Archie’s smile fades a little. “Yeah.”

Jughead raises an eyebrow. “Oof. Sounds like it went well.”

“Yeah, it was –“ he looks down at the table, and the battered black notebook. “She was all, I have to look after this friend who I’ve never mentioned, catch up with you later! Like, we’ve got a show in three and a half hours, but I seem to be the only one who cares!”

He looks up sheepishly. Jughead is regarding him with a wry smile. “Feel better then?”

“Ah, sorry about that,” he replies, awkwardly.

Jughead shrugs. “One of my best friends will burst into an angry rant out of nowhere, so that was nothing compared to him. Once he did it while I was trying to open a bag of cereal, and it went everywhere.”

Archie grins a little, at this. Then he remembers what he was mad about. ““It’s just – she’s so not like this, usually. She’s the one making schedules, and making sure we stick to them. It’s a really weird day for her to decide to just – stop caring so much.”

Jughead nods. “Yeah, that’s weird, I guess. What does your other guy think, the dudebro one?”

Archie grins at this, which fades thinking about Reggie locking him out. He shakes his head.

“He’s the reason I’m down here, instead of hanging out in my room. Locked me out to hook up with someone,” he says, still irritable thinking about it.

Jughead pulls a face. “Ugh, been there. Toni and I had to have rules for our apartment to stop that happening again.”

“Yeah, Reg and I have a similar situation back home. And when we were living a shoebox back in Chicago, when we were just out of school. He’s been better about it in the past,” Archie replies, frowning. “Is it just Toni that you live with, back home?”

Jughead eyes him warily, but seems to determine nothing bad, and half-smiles. “Yeah, just us. As I said before, Spontaneous Rants. Which, to be fair, I also do, but it’s kind of a nightmare if we’re both living together.”

Archie smiles, and nods.  “Reggie just – this isn’t the first time he’s done this. Lately, he’s been wilder than usual – like, we’ve known him since we were fourteen, he’s always been a bit wild. But he used to understand when to rein it in, when it was important? Anyway, I’ve grown to expect this shit from him. But Betty – I’m just totally confused about what’s going on with her.”

“Isn’t that kind of a double standard, though?” Jughead replies, unexpectedly.

“How do you mean?” Archie asks, taken aback.

Jughead shrugs. “I just mean, out of them both, Reggie seems to be the one regularly being careless. But Betty’s just doing it today, yet you’re more mad at her?”

“That’s –“ he protests, annoyed, then thinks about it. “Yeah...but like, she knows better. I mean, she’s always been the mom friend. And this is important. It’s our job. She can’t just – not care.”

Jughead nods. “Maybe, but it’s gotta be tiring. Toni’s known us since we were kids, and she kind of became our defacto leader. Which can be really exhausting for her, at times. We try to recognise it, so we can give her a break,”

Archie considers this, feeling kind of grumpy. “Yeah, I guess.”

“But, I agree, she shouldn’t just stop talking to you. Who’s this friend?” Jughead adds.

“I honestly could not tell you, for sure. But do you know _Total Betty_?” Archie asks.

Jughead looks at him blankly. “Is that a singer?”

“I can’t believe you’re in music, and you’ve never heard of them?” Archie says, amused. “They’re a pop duo? Two girls?”

Jughead seems to comprehend something. “The name is familiar – are they...playing the festival?”

Archie shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. “Yeah, they’re kinda headlining. You really didn’t know?”

Jughead looks mildly affronted. “Toni books these things, I don’t know pop music. Why is it important, anyway?”

“Well, I think her friend is one of them. Because Toni was with the other one, who we met before. Cheryl.” Archie clarifies. “She was intense, right?”

Jughead nods. “Oh, yeah. Kind of interestingly weird, for a pop starlet.”

Archie considers it. He’d always thought, if he’d seen her in a video before, that she really looked the part of a socialite-turned-popstar. But there was something about her in person that made her seem deeper, and older than expected.

“So, what’s going on with you? I thought you were going back to your room?” Archie half-smiles. “You get sexiled too?”

Jughead looks somewhat shifty. “No, I, uh, just felt like writing in a bigger area. More space.” He gestures vaguely.

“Right,” Archie says slowly. He looks down at the battered old notebook. “Your notebook looks like it’s had better days,”

Jughead looks down at it, almost possessively. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve had it a while,” he says, tracing his finger over the faded stickers on the cover fondly.

He looks up. “I guess I’d feel weird writing songs in a different book.”

Archie nods. “I get that. My mom got me this new guitar for my 18th, to replace this second hand one I’d been learning on for years. It’s totally old now, and not as good as the ones I use on stage but I still like to use it when we’re just practising, and working out new stuff,” he says, smiling at the memories, which inevitably gives way to thinking about his mom. “She’s this – awesome, but busy lawyer, and we don’t have time to see each other a lot. It kinda makes me feel closer to her,” he says, without thinking, and then feels immediately embarrassed about this overshare.

He shakes his head, feeling his cheeks going hot. “Sorry, that was – “

“No, it’s cool,” Jughead doesn’t smirk, or anything, looking rather more understanding. He opens his mouth a little, but doesn’t say anything, then, “I know what you mean. My dad gave me this book, actually. When I was fifteen,” he looks suddenly, slightly embarrassed. “I know it seems like a lame present, but it was really nice when I got it, and we didn’t always have a lot –“

Archie cuts him off. “No, no I get it. Sometimes it’s just parents taking an interest that means a lot.”

Jughead nods. “We don’t have a lot in common. But he has this idea that I’m this really great writer, he’s always saying it. It’s kind of funny,”

He says it with a smirk, but Archie can tell that this means a lot more to him than he’s letting on.

“Well, are you?” Archie asks, with a grin, to keep the mood light.

Jughead snickers, surprised. “Yeah, I’m not bad. Pretty good, actually,”

Archie laughs. His mood is feeling a little improved, and he’s starting to really enjoy hanging out with this skinny hipster he feels like he should, for all intents and purposes, totally hate.  

 

**1:10pm**

Cheryl walks very purposefully, Toni notices. It doesn’t just seem to be because they’re on a tight schedule, either. She walks like she expects inanimate objects to jump out of her path, and Toni almost believes she could make them.

“So, just to make sure – you definitely want to pull out of your show?” Toni asks, on the way to the manager’s office.

Cheryl huffs. “I – Of course, I’d like to do the show, it’s a headlining spot. But I’m not going to sell out my best friend. She wants to get out of it, we’re going to get out of it.”

She says it very straightforwardly, but there’s something hidden there. She has experience with this kind of behaviour, after all.

“Alright, just checking that it’s what you want,” Toni says, wryly.

Cheryl regards at her for a moment, and nods.

They get up a flight of stairs to a demountable building clearly serving as the management office, and Cheryl stops and turns to her.

“So, we’re clear - he’s going to try and get us to stay. The goal is to get him to let us out of our obligations without the threat of legal action. It could get messy. Think you can handle it?” Cheryl asks, with the hint of a smirk.

Toni gives her a disbelieving look. “I’ve had to deal with creepy dive  bar owners to get shows. I think I can handle this,” she says dryly.

Cheryl smirks. “Then I’m glad you came.”

Toni smirks too. “Let’s do this then.”

The more time she spends with Cheryl, the more she understands the appeal of being around her. Sure, she’s beautiful, but so many pop starlets are - Toni still wouldn’t want to have to hang out with them. But Cheryl’s highly focused, surprisingly intelligent, totally odd - and has this spark of mischievous intention that makes her hard to predict, and therefore exciting.

Not that she’ll be around her much longer, and not that it matters. She can’t see a time in the near future where their spheres are going to align again like this.

Cheryl knocks on the door, and someone inside shouts, ‘come in!’.

Toni has never met Michael in person, but she researched him when she found out she was being scouted for the festival. She dealt mostly with one of his subordinates when setting up to perform here, but was assured that he personally okayed every last band and performer that would be playing over the two days of the festival.

In person, he’s a sweaty thirty-something man wearing an expensive-looking button up shirt and suit pants, even in the heat of the day. There’s no aircon in the office either, just fans.

His face actually falls when he sees Cheryl.

“Oh no. What’s wrong?” he says apprehensively.

Cheryl looks nonchalant. “Why do you assume I have bad news?”

Michael frowns. “Cheryl Blossom, ninety percent of the time you at least have a complaint waiting, so what is it? I’ve only got about five minutes till I have to make an important call, so make it quick.”

Cheryl seems to accept this and adopts a more businesslike expression. “Have you seen the news this morning?”

Michael’s expression clouds, and Toni knows that he knows what she’s talking about. “Please do not be here to ask what I think you’re about to.” he groans.

“Good, I don’t need to explain.” Cheryl ploughs on. “As you can imagine, Veronica is devastated right now. There’s no way you could expect her to go on tonight.”

Michael frowns more. “What, so you’re just going to perform your _Total Betty_ set by yourself? Or are you going to bring sub this girl into Veronica’s part?”

 _Personally oversees all the acts on the line up, sure._ Toni thinks.

Cheryl meets his gaze evenly. “No, Michael, _Total Betty_ does not perform without each other. I need you to help me out here - Veronica is not in a state to be perform tonight. I’m sorry, but we can’t go on tonight.”

Michael makes a kind of exhilarated laugh, but doesn’t sound amused. “You’re fucking kidding me right, Blossom? This is a very badly misjudged joke?”

Cheryl stays poised. “My father didn’t teach me a lot, Michael, but he taught me never to joke about business matters. This is a genuine emergency, and we need to be able to pull out of our set tonight.”

Michael shakes his head. “Look, I feel bad for Veronica, that’s a tough break. But I’m sure your businessmen fathers also taught you about honouring your business commitments. You have a contract with us - you’re headliners, for fuck’s sake! You canceling at the last minute, on the _day you’re supposed to play your set_ is just not happening!” he says, reddening.

Toni privately feels slightly bad for him, given that she knows how bad it’s gonna look for him if they manage to pull out of their spot. But he’s kind of condescending, too, so not that sorry.

“Yeah, well it has to happen because we’re not going on tonight, ok?” Cheryl says, voice shaking with anger. “There’s a clause in our contract that covers emergency cancellation, and this definitely qualifies.”

“Good to know you’ve had someone read your contract to you,” Michael says, standing up. “But you should have had them explain it a little more - barring serious injury, that cuts out up to twenty-four hours before the set. So if you’re not on that stage by eight-thirty tonight, I will fucking sue you for everything I can!”

Cheryl colours, staring at him with barely restrained fury. “I read all my contracts, thank-you, Michael. And that is patently _fucking_ ridiculous, because the whole thing with emergencies is that they’re _emergent,_ and I’m not afraid of you, you sweaty, condescending weasel! I’ve got good lawyers! Try and -” she lays into him fierily, and Toni grabs her arm to attempt to slow the flow.

“Cheryl, wait a moment,” Toni says, a thought forming. She looks at Michael. “Can you give a second?”

Michael throws his arms up. “Why not? Talk some sense into her!”

Cheryl starts forward, but Toni stops her.

They step outside for a moment.

“What are you doing?” Cheryl hisses.

Toni frowns. “Trying to save your from yourself! Were you there for that back there? Are you trying to get him to sue you?”

Cheryl’s eyes burn. “Who cares if he does! This isn’t a big festival, and believe me I can afford it!”

Toni glares at her. There she is, the rich girl diva who’d yell at at a hotel staffer over sheets.

“Yeah, it must be great to just be able to throw money at your problems,” Toni replies, and can’t help a note of derision creeping into her voice. “But we’re here to protect Veronica - you have no idea what financial state her family’s in now, and I’m sure she won’t appreciate having to be a part of another high-profile legal case.” 

Cheryl considers this, and simmers down. She takes a breath. “What should I do then?” she asks.

“I have a plan, ok? It might not work, but it’s the best thing we’ve got,” Toni says, and Cheryl smirks, just a little.

“Did you get her to see sense?” Michael asks when they enter the office again. “You’d better have, I’m already late for my call.”

Cheryl tenses but looking at Toni, doesn’t say anything.

Toni addresses Michael. “What would you accept to get _Total Betty_ out of their set without legal ramifications?”

Michael scoffs. “Pretty much nothing other than clones of the band, playing the set we’ve advertised they’ll be playing, but go on,”

“What if we could get you a band in to fill their slot? A good one? That’s on the fame level as _Total Betty_?” Toni asks, externally cool but feeling a spike of adrenaline as she speaks.

For the first time, Michael doesn’t just look mad, but warily interested. “Well it’s not ideal, but...which band do you have in mind? They’d have to be local, there’s not much time to get anyone in from interstate.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re in California then, isn’t it?” Toni says crisply. “We don’t - “

“ - want to tell you specifics yet, because the band I have in mind are dear friends of ours, but may not be able to do it. But they’d be a worthy replacement, definitely. We get to go, you get a crowd-pleasing replacement, everyone leaves happy.” Cheryl takes over, confidently, and Toni is secretly glad because she’d realised as she started the sentence that he’d probably want to know they had a specific band in mind, and had nothing else to say to him for that.

Michael looks at her suspiciously. “I’m interested, Blossom. But you have to confirm that they can play at least two hours before the set, if not more, with me personally - or it’s business as usual, and you AND Veronica play your show at eight-thirty tonight.”

Cheryl glances at Toni, and back to Michael. “Ok. We’ll have a new band for you by six-thirty, or we’ll go on.”

Michael eyes her warily. “Ok. If you fuck me on this though, Blossom…”

Chery’s eyes glint. “Don’t worry. I’d never fuck you, Michael.”

Toni turns quickly to leave the office with Cheryl, so he can’t see her smirk.

When they’re down the stairs, Toni turns to Cheryl.

“So, do you think they’ll do it?” she asks.

Cheryl looks grim. “They might. I have some leverage, though.”

Toni raises an eyebrow. Cheryl gives her an innocent look. “It’s nothing you need to know right now, but it’s not illegal. And I’d rather not call in this connection, but I need them to do this for us, or I don’t know how Veronica will cope.”

Toni nods. “You’re both pretty strong, though. I think it would take more than this performance to break her, so it’s not the end of the world if you have to do it, right?”

Cheryl looks away. “Maybe not.”

***

**1:20pm**

“Damn, I thought you said you were good at this!” Mel crows, as Fangs takes on enemy fire.

“I am, I didn’t know I’d be playing against some kind of Olympic-level gamer!” he defends himself, laughing.

She laughs too. “That is weak and you know it!”

He sighs as his character goes down. “And i’m...dead,”

“Well, I want to go next. Mel and I are locked into a battle for supremacy, and I’m about to edge out her high score,” Val says, from where she was half-reading and half watching the game play.

Mel cracks her knuckles. “A worthy challenger. You’d do well to learn from her, grasshopper,” she says to him, teasingly.

He scoffs, but can’t help grinning as he gets up to get a drink.

Josie’s standing by the onboard minifridge, talking with Kevin. He decides to go say hi again.

“Burn out of the game?” Josie asks, smirking.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, grinning sheepishly.

She chuckles. “Don’t take it too hard, Mel plays a lot in our downtime. Only Val can take her.”

Kevin smiles at him. “I tried once, but I’m not really a gamer. She beat me soundly.”

He chuckles. “She’s brutal,”

Josie grins. “That’s why we love her.”

She looks at him, scrutinisingly, suddenly. Smiling, she says, “So, what’s your deal? You just here to see The Black Keys, or are you more of a pop star guy?”

He grins. It’s not like he should expect someone as famous as Josie to have ever heard of his Portland indie rock band, but it’s weird to have to explain that actually, he’s also a performer here too.

“Uh, I actually..am in a band. We were on around 10:30 this morning. We’re not very big,” he replies, with a self-deprecating smirk.

Josie has the good manners to look a little embarrassed, and she places a hand on her chest.

“Really? Anything we would have heard?” she asks, smiling.  

He shakes his head. “We’re not exactly radio famous right now. It’s really honestly up to my bandmate Toni that we even got the opportunity to be here.”

Kevin looks intrigued. “Are on Spotify? Youtube? I wanna hear one of your songs!”

Josie nods, excited. “Let me guess...” she says, sizing him up. “I’m thinking, lead singer?”

He laughs. “How could you tell?”

She smirks. “It’s a gift.” She looks at Kevin mischievously. “Also, the majority of lead singers I know of are usually the most attractive member, so unless your bandmates are models, right Kev?”

Kevin gives her a fleeting Look that speaks to a long history between them. “I’m – sure your bandmates are also, attractive,” he says awkwardly, and she giggles.

“Actually, my friend Toni is kind of my co-lead. And she is definitely prettier than me. Maybe,” he says, with a laugh.

Josie nods. “Interesting. I’ll have to check you out once you start playing shows in L.A.”

“She would love that. And I would too. Although people might get more excited to see you there,” he replies. She laughs, looking charmed.

“Hey Fangs, do you want a mimosa? Can’t hurt if you’ve already gone on right?” she asks, smirking.

He’s not usually into drinking anything he terms “White Lady Brunch Drinks”, but how is he going to refuse the offer of a cocktail made by a famous person?

“Sure, why not,” he agrees, smiling. Josie nods, and backs off with a mischievous look at Kevin.

Kevin shakes his head. “She thinks she’s funny,” he explains, long-sufferingly.

Fangs grins. “She’s pretty funny. Seems like you’ve known her a long time?”

Kevin smiles. “Yeah, actually. She’s kind of my sister,”

Fangs is surprised. “Really?”

Kevin grins. “Well, step sister. When I was seventeen, her mom got married to my dad, and we moved in with them.”

“Aw, that’s kind of nice. Gaining two new family members,” he says, smiling.

Kevin looks at him like he’s said something odd. “That’s a – nice way to put it, actually.” He smiles ruefully. “It wasn’t always. Blended families can be a bit awkward. But we found our common ground, and we’ve pretty much been close since.”

Fangs nods wisely. “Yeah, I guess it can be hard. Me and my friends – our families were always fractured, single parents and stuff. Guess that’s what made us close. I wish I’d had a sibling, though.”

“As someone who was an only child until I was seventeen, and has seen the best and worst of both worlds – It can be the worst, but I don’t know what I’d do without her now,” Kevin says, quietly honest.

He has a nice, open face. Fangs likes talking to him, because he is an expensive suit-wearing music management guy but he doesn’t act like an expensive suit wearing music management guy.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without my bandmates. If I hadn’t had them growing up...” he shakes himself a little, feeling embarrassed. “I just didn’t grow up in a big family, so.”

Kevin hesitates. “Would it be totally rude if I asked – you’re a single parent kid, too, right?”

Fangs pauses, wondering whether to say it. It always leads to more tragic questions, and then people look at him weirdly. But something in the way Kevin asked it – makes him think he gets it.

“Sort of,” he starts. “I was raised by my Abuela. But before that, too, really.”

Kevin looks more than just sympathetic.

Fangs half-laughs awkwardly. “Sorry to bring the mood down. It’s not that bad, actually.”

Kevin looks distantly sad, even though he’s half-smiling. “No, I get it. My mom died when I was little. She was a vet, I guess my Dad always knew she was in some kind of danger over there.”

Fangs is hit quite suddenly with a memory of his own mother, arguing with his Abuela. In hindsight, but with nearly twenty years between, he thinks they were arguing over him. She was too young – younger than he is now, to be looking after a five year old. He used to look at old photos of her and wonder what she had wanted, and how he always remembered her as an adult. But really, she was just a kid who wanted to go out and have fun.

“I’m really sorry. Mine was – car accident,” he says quietly, throat already feeling tighter. “Long time ago, though.”

Kevin looks at him, empathetically. “Still hurts, though.”

He looks down for a moment, then back at Kevin. “Well I’m sure your mom would be proud of what you’ve made here. It’s amazing.”

Kevin looks at him for a moment, and his smile returns. “Thanks, Fangs,”

Fangs looks back, feels himself start to smile. Doesn’t say anything.

They don’t say anything for a moment.  Then Kevin breaks.

“I have to know the story behind that name.”

Fangs finds himself smiling again.

“I’ve actually had it since I was like, eight years old?”

Kevin grins wider. “No!”

He nods. “Although the story isn’t super interesting – I moved to a new school after I moved in with my Abuela, and I didn’t know anyone. Kids were saying some mean things about where I’d been before. I kind of was already an angry kid, because of –“

 He doesn’t have to say it, because Kevin nods understandingly.

“Yeah. But I just didn’t talk to anyone, and didn’t want to make new friends. I just hid from kids at lunch,” he says, and Kevin smiles .

“From personal experience, that doesn’t tend to make the assholes go away,” he says ruefully.

Fangs smiles. “Yeah, tell me about. So these kids kept trying to upset me, and one day I snapped and got into a fight with three of them. We were too little to really do anything to each other, but this kid was trying to pin me, so I bit him until he got off me,”

“Brutal!” Kevin says, with glee. “My bullies would have said that I _liked them_ if I’d done that, and my dad would have killed me. But I sort of wish I had, it would have been _so_ satisfying.”

Fangs laughs. “Yeah, it was for a few seconds. But then the teachers broke it up, and the principal acted like I was the scary violent one because there was still a bit of an impression in his skin, and he suspended me for two days.”

Kevin sucks in a breath. “That sucks Been there. Like sure, Principal Jefferson, I was involved in that fight trying to defend myself, but sure I deserve just as much punishment as my bullies.”

Fangs shakes his head. “It’s the worst. So, I’m sitting outside the office waiting for my Abuela, feeling very lonely and like she’s about to be very mad at me – and this girl from my class, who I’ve never talked to, sits down next to me. She says, ‘Hey Fangs! That was cool what you did to Jason.’”

Kevin looks enthralled. “Just like that?”

Fangs grins. “Just like that. And then we were best friends from that moment.”

Kevin beams at this. “Let me guess, you grew up to be co-leads of a band together?”

Fangs laughs. “Right on the money! Don’t know where we’d be without her.”

Josie comes up from behind Kevin with the drinks. “Without who?” she says, handing them out,

“Thanks, Josie,” they chorus.

“Fangs’ bandmate Toni,” Kevin answers.

“Ooh, “ Josie coos, grinning. “So, do you have any of you guys’ music on your phone? Let’s hear it!”

“Yes, do it!” Kevin agrees.

“Ok, ok,” he says, grinning as he puts down the mimosa and gets out his phone. “This is one of the newest tracks we’ve put together, for our LP.”

It’s surreal to be playing his own singing for an actual famous person, who asked to hear it. The opening bars are good though. It emboldens him.

_I cut off my head and my cheetah tongue, I can’t think straight and my mouth is numb._

Josie is dancing with her mimosa, and somehow manages to still look cool. “Wow, Fangs, I love it!” she says happily.

Kevin grins at him. “Look as someone in the business – this has serious potential. And personally, I really like it.”

He grins. He’d thought playing their first show at a fairly well-known music festival interstate would be the most euphoric and excited he could feel today, but he was wrong.

***

  **1:20pm**

 “Hey, I’m not holding you up am I?” Veronica asks her suddenly, interrupting the flow of their conversation.  “Cause you’ve already been here for me so much, and I know you have a show to get to –“

Betty shakes her head. “It’s not for a while, and I’m happy to be here,” she says warmly, but she’s still thinking about the short, somewhat terse conversation she just had. Veronica smiles gratefully.

“Who was that you were meeting?” Veronica continues.

“Uh, just a friend. Needed to get a spare room key of me,” she lies, and she’s not sure why. But she just knows she doesn’t want to bring their drama into this. It’s some kind of respite from her normal life, the normal role she plays and it’s nice. Not to mention how long it’s been since she’s been around another female friend.

Veronica nods, and if she is sceptical she doesn’t say anything.

Betty sits down on the couch. “How are you holding up, though?”

Veronica smiles weakly. “Well, it’s minute to minute. I’m ok right now. But I – I can’t find my phone, and it’s stressing me out. I hope I didn’t leave it at the interview, but I’m _sure_ I brought it back here...with my luck it’s off, and I won’t be able to call it.”

Betty frowns. “Still missing? That is weird.”

Veronica shrugs. “I guess it’s the least of my problems right now,” she says, with a weak laugh. She turns to Betty. “So, what’s going on with you?”

Betty is surprised by this, for some reason. She’d been consumed by all the Lodge family drama, hadn’t had to think about her own.  “Uh – not much. Same old.”

Veronica gives her a knowing look. “We talked about the basics – but how are you? How’s the band?” she says, smiling a little wider. “Are you..do you have a boyfriend in LA? Or a girlfriend?”

Betty smiles, shaking her head. “I don’t have time to date people, I’m way too busy.”

Veronica giggles. “God, tell me about it. The band has to come first, for me. So many people don’t get that. But that’s their ego problem, not mine.”

Betty smiles in agreement. “I can imagine, you’re basically conquering the music world right now.”

Veronica shrugs, beaming. “Well...we’re always looking for ways to improve, and build on our successes. You’re not doing too badly, though – you’re kind of blowing up right now,”

Betty looks down. “Yeah, guess.”

“You don’t seem as thrilled by this as I would have assumed,” Veronica says, nicely.

Betty looks back at her. “Do you ever just feel – like it’s a lot to deal with? It’s so uncertain, and I sometimes feel like I’m the only person driving the bus –“ she breaks off, blushing. “Sorry, I don’t know what I’m on about.”

Veronica looks at her sympathetically. “No, I get that. Although, I guess Cheryl and I are too similarly controlling to totally give up direction of the band to the other,” she says, and Betty smiles a little.

***

_5 years ago_

_“God, I haven’t been able to relax like this in forever!” Betty says, sipping her third drink. “I like college, but I feel like I’m either studying, stressing or sleeping,”_

_“The three s’s of college,” Veronica giggles, fast on her way to drunk. “But I love what I’m doing right now – I feel like I’m doing exactly what I’m meant to be doing. Cheryl and I are gonna take over the world!”_

_Betty raises her glass. “Yeah! I’d believe it. Then I can tell everyone I know a famous person.”_

_Veronica giggles again. “Aw, I can’t imagine you’re not gonna do something awesome yourself. You’ve got that kind of air, Betty.”_

_Betty grins. “I don’t know about it. If I manage to finish to college, maybe.”_

_Veronica’s eyes light up, and she looks around. “I fucking love this song,” she says excitedly. “Let’s dance!”_

_“No!” Betty half-heartedly protests._

_“C’mon!” Veronica says, and leads her out of the booth to a small, dark area where a few other co-eds are dancing._

_It’s not a song she knows, although she’s heard it on the radio. It’s kind of 80s infused, vaguely reminiscent of Roxanne-era The Police._

_‘You make me feel like, I’ve been locked out of heaven for too long, for too long,” the singer choruses._

_It’s very hot in the dance area, and she’s suddenly very close to Veronica – who looks as free as she’s seen her all night. She’s magnetic._

_The song finishes, and Veronica allows them to sit back down. She looks exhilarated._

_“That was fun! I wish you weren’t going home soon. We’d have so much fun clubbing,” she giggles._

_Betty giggles too. “I never do that back home. I barely went to parties in high school, and my two best friends were jock guys. They had to drag me to their things a lot.”_

_Veronica smiles. “Do you still keep in touch with them?”_

_Betty nods. “Of course, they’re my best friends,” she sighs. “I’ve been friends with them since I was fourteen. And college is, obviously – great... but I miss them.”_

_Veronica looks sympathetic. “I can’t even imagine that. The kids I went to school with – let’s just say, I’m glad I’m not in touch with them anymore. College was kind of my fresh start.”_

_Betty finishes her drink. “Supposed to be for me. I just – I miss the fun I used to have with them, like we even,” she giggles, embarrassed. “It’s dumb,”_

_“No tell me!” Veronica giggles, looking interested._

_“We were like – in a band, in senior year,” Betty says, already blushing. “We actually started even getting local gigs after a while. Small stuff, just keeping my ear out. It was just – so much fun, playing together.”_

_“Do you ever get the band back together, when you go home?” Veronica asks, sitting up._

_“I – sometimes. They’ve kept it going together, but only one of them is at state college. And that’s only because his dad’s an asshat who wants him to run the family dealership,” she says, surprising herself with this addition._

_Veronica nods empathetically. “Yeah. Damn parents,” she sighs._

_“So you’re studying journalism at college, right?”_

_Betty nods, slowly. “Yep. My mom thought that would be a good field – she’s a journalist, too. Not that – like, I like it. You can’t just do the fun things in life, right?”_

_Veronica frowns. “Why not? Guessing your mom didn’t approve of the band, then?”_

_Betty looks at her. “How’d you know?”_

_Veronica laughs. “Doesn’t exactly sound like a chill parent. Then again, too chill and you end up with my mom, who has no care to know what I get up to most of the time. Which was pretty dangerous when I was a teenager.”_

_Betty sucks in a breath. “I mean, she means well. My mom, that is. I don’t know your mom.” Veronica giggles. “But sometimes I’m just like – what am I even doing here? But then sometimes, I’m like – happy to be away from everyone at home? Does that make me horrible?”_

_Veronica shakes her head, and clasps Betty’s hand. “Not at all. It’s alright to take time for yourself, you know.”_

_Betty doesn’t know what to say, with her heart doing a weird quickstep, so she just nods._

_Veronica’s eyes light up again, like she’s gotten an idea. “Wanna do something else fun?”_

_*_

_“Karaoke? No!” Betty protests, seeing where Veronica’s made them get out of the cab._

_Veronica beams. “Yes! You said you did gigs back home, this is nothing!”_

_Betty shakes her head. “No, not for ages!”_

_“I’ll do it with you, we’re just drunk enough that it will be fun!” Veronica giggles, taking her by the hand and pulling her lightly towards the door._

_“You have to come up with me!” Betty protests, but she’s already letting herself be pulled into the bar._

_The bar is dark, empty enough that it won’t be totally humiliating but full enough to not feel totally dead._

_Veronica goes off to order them drinks, for courage. Betty takes a moment to think – she’s scared, certainly, of embarrassing herself in front of these strangers. But she’s kind of excited, too – she was never the lead singer of their little band, but she did backup, and didn’t have a bad voice of her own. Maybe it’s just that Veronica’s energy is infectious, but she’s so far away from anyone she knows at home. It’s kind of a good feeling, like she’s not herself in this bar, tonight. She’s someone more like Veronica – confident, and brave and free._

_*_

_The stage lights are thankfully not too bright, but they block out a lot of the crowd as well. Veronica had chosen the song, but it’s one she actually likes. All she’s focusing on is on Veronica, next to her, and the screen with the lyrics._

_The song starts, and Veronica looks at her – not looking at the screen. She follows her lead._

_“...so shine bright, tonight, you and I, we’re beautiful like diamonds in the sky,” she sings, feeling an inexplicable burst of confidence._

_“Eye to eye, so alive,” Veronica sings, playing off her, clearly loving it. “We’re beautiful like diamonds in the sky.” She can tell that Veronica is a trained performer now, although she didn’t doubt it before. She’s luminous onstage, crackling with energy, her natural charisma turned wild._

_She’s exhilarated too, though – she had forgotten what a rush performing is, not something that she finds so much in her everyday life. Not that researching doesn’t have its own excitements for her, but it’s different. More of a private victory._

_She’s surprised to hear a respectable amount of applause from the bar patrons, when the song finishes._

_Veronica beams at her, and they bow quickly to the audience, and then leave the stage._

_“Oh my god, Cooper, you were so holding out on me! You’re amazing!” Veronica says, her voice coming out in an excited, tipsy rush as she rushes to hug her._

_Betty can’t stop smiling – can’t even remember the last time she felt like this, so elated, so on top of the damn world. Veronica’s hair smells nice, and she wonders idly what rich people’s shampoos are made of._

_“I’m – what about you?” she deflects, blushing but still smiling. “If you had any doubt you were meant to be at that school, that should have crushed it. You’re were just –“_

_She trails off. Veronica is dabbing at her eyes, still beaming. “That means a lot to me, you know.”_

_She nods. “I know.”_

_*_

_“Betty, I’m just saying. You were amazing out there – I know what bad performers look like, trust me. You weren’t one,” Veronica is imploring her. “It would be kind of tragic to waste that talent,”_

_Betty shakes her head, grinning. “You haven’t seen me play bass. How do you know I have talent other than karaoke?”_

_Veronica scoffs. “After that performance, I’d believe it. You like performing, you said so!”_

_Betty sighs, half-laughs. “So? It’s a fun hobby. What else should I be doing?”_

_Veronica shakes her head, and looks at her dead-on. “Betty, tonight you are young...” she begins, and both of them dissolve into giggles. On the stage, a few college kids are pulling out a not entirely shabby version of Fun’s “We Are Young”._

_Veronica straightens up and looks at her. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But you’ve been a friend to me, and I wanna repay the favour. You say you’re enjoying college, but the most I’ve seen you light up tonight was talking about your friends, your old band, seeing you performing...”_

_She shrugs. “It just seems like something you should think about.”_

_Betty goes to argue, and finds her words die in her throat. “Oh my god,” she says quietly, and looks at the table._

_“Are you ok?” Veronica asks, sounding worried._

_She looks up. “Ok, yeah – I miss them. But what am I supposed to, to do - drop out of college? I can’t just – be in a band. I need to have a – a job!” she says, rapidly, feeling herself spiralling._

_“Betty, look at me,” she says, meaningfully. She does, surprising herself. “I can’t tell you what to do. But why are you here? Why are you even doing your degree?”_

_She thinks about it, again lost for the right words. “I – I came to New York for this internship. Which I like,” she says slowly. Veronica nods._

_“But I don’t think I’m going to move here anytime soon, so maybe it’s just the city I like? The people?” she theorises, frowning. “But, I like researching. I like writing – I should want to...And it’s not like people always find their jobs super interesting, right?”_

_“Right,” Veronica says simply. “But what made you want to become a journalist?”_

_She sits, and stares at her glass, and wonders. “Well...my mom thought it was a solid degree, and she’s a journalist so she’s always wanted me to go into that field, maybe work at the same newspaper as her, even,”_

_Veronica makes a noise that indicates she thought as much. “Look, don’t take it from me – neither of my parents have ever really cared what I do with my career, because they figured I’d never really want one. But if you’re really only doing this to please your mom – it’s never going to be enough.”_

_Betty sighs, deeply. “Fuck. You’re right, of course. But she’s so intense, I hate having to have Important Conversations with her. She’ll assume I’m pregnant, or on drugs or something,”_

_Veronica smirks, slightly. “Damn,”_

_She looks at Veronica. “So, hypothetically, if you were me – what would you do next?”_

_Veronica tents her fingers, like a beautiful, young, Latina Mr Burns._

_“Well, before I did anything drastic, I’d make sure what the other path looked like. So I’d call my friends, see how the band is going, see how serious they are about it. See if they want it to be a career. No point in burning all your bridges for them, if they’re not as committed. Then try and play some gigs with them, see how it feels. Then make the decision that I feel like I’ll regret the least, later on,” she says, comprehensively._

_Betty half-smiles. “You make it sound so easy,”_

_Veronica grins. “It won’t be. It might be worth it though.”_

_*_

_They’re walking down the street, having left the karaoke bar to hunt for a particular fast food outlet._

_It’s dark but they’re not walking through a scary part of the city, and there are always people around._

_They find a quiet spot to sit down with their fast food._

_Veronica sighs, though there’s a laugh in her voice. “I’m going to have gained so much weight after tonight. Fast food twice in a night. Unthinkable.”_

_Betty shakes her head. “That’s crazy. You’re beautiful.”_

_Veronica smiles at her. “Thanks. I wasn’t trying to fish for a compliment, though. Just the way it is.”_

_Betty looks at her. “How can you be so confident, and worry about that?”_

_Veronica looks at her funny. “I guess we all have our stuff.”_

_She pauses. “You seem really confident about some things,”_

_Betty laughs. “I don’t feel like it. I don’t feel confident about anything right now,”_

_Veronica looks at her. “I hope I don’t offend you saying this – but I think...you know what you want, really. You seem pretty self-assured, actually. You’re just...scared. Of the consequences.”_

_Betty stares at her, sort of glad they’re not inside. The low light of the outside surrounds makes it easier to look at her, without feeling so obvious._

_“Maybe that’s because I like the person everyone wants me to be,” she says, quietly, abandoning the rest of her fries between them. “I’m not sure I know how to be this other person. What if they all hate it?”_

_Veronica doesn’t break eye contact. “Then forget them. Going after who you want to be is scary – I realised that today, kind of for the first time, really – but so is spending your life being someone you’re not even sure you like, just to please everyone else, ok girl?”_

_Betty can’t even say she thinks about it. It just feels right, to fall right into her._

_Veronica smiles softly, as they break apart. “That was a genuine piece of advice and not necessarily a come on...but I’m glad you did that,” she whispers._

_Betty frowns. “I – I’m such a mess. God, I’m too drunk,” she stammers out. Who is she trying to kid? She’s not this girl, as much as she wants to be. She can’t drop out of college to rejoin a band. She shouldn’t be kissing people she’s never going to be in the same league as, especially people like Veronica._

_Veronica pulls back a little. “You’re not that drunk.”_

_“I can’t do – this. I’m sorry, I ruined this very nice night, I’m sorry,” she says, panicking and pulling back._

_Veronica looks at her. “What? Are you freaking out because you’ve never done this before?” she asks, fierce yet sympathetic. “It’s alright, ok. You don’t have to be cool with it yet, you know?”_

_Betty looks at her helplessly. “It’s not that! I mean, it is, a lot, I’ve only really kissed boys except for this one party, and I’m not really sure how to deal with this, but I’m also going home on the weekend! And I’m not coming back for a long time, and sure, in theory it’s all well and good to do what I want to do and be, but a lot of people are expecting things of me and I’m not sure I want to disappoint them, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to tell people what I really want yet –“ she says, spinning out and Veronica  grabs her by the arms, making her look at her._

_“Betty! Stop freaking out!” she orders, but with a gentle look. “You don’t need to decide anything yet. Nothing has to change yet.” She smiles at her. “But I think you’ll be happier when you work some of this stuff out.”_

_Betty has to kiss her again, then._

_*_

_In the cab ride back to her little apartment, Veronica half-asleep on her shoulder – where they are going purely to sleep, given it’s so late it’s now early – she wonders whether she’ll ever see Veronica again. Somehow it feels like she was lucky to have gotten this night. It’s made her more confident._

_“When I go home, I’m going to talk to the boys. And maybe my mom, even,” she says to herself._

_Veronica giggles against her shoulder. “You inspire me. I’m going to talk to my dad again. Tomorrow. Or later today, I guess.”_

_“That’s great,” she says, and even now is beginning to miss her._

_“I won’t forget this, Betty,” Veronica says sleepily, almost eerily on cue. “You helped me,”_

_Betty leans her head back into the seat. “Not nearly as much as you helped me, V.”_

_Veronica finds her hand, and Betty forgets about the impending future for a little longer._

Veronica smiles at her. “I always meant to ask – how did your mom take it? And how’s your sister, and her child?”

Betty chuckles, a little humourlessly. “The sexuality thing or the chucking in my college education to join a band thing?” she deadpans. Veronica grins. “She was bit angry – but you were right, I felt better telling her. She came around on both, in the end.”

Veronica beams. “I’m so glad!”

“The other good news is that Polly is doing great, she’s working in a florist shop. She actually had twins,” Betty continues.

Veronica beams. “That’s amazing! If stressful – I hope your mom is still helping her out. Boys or girls?”

Betty smiles, genuinely, thinking of them. “A boy and a girl, actually. The cutest little five year olds you’ve ever seen. I have like, a ton of photos of them on my phone.”

Veronica beams even wider. “Aw, I’d love to see that!”

“Let me just find my phone –“ she says scrabbling around for it. Turning it on, she realises it’s on ten percent battery, and is not going to last much longer. “Ah, damn. You don’t have a Samsung charger?”

“Sorry, only Apple,” Veronica says, apologetically.

“Do you mind if I pop down and grab my charger? Then I can show you the babies!” Betty says, with a smile.

Veronica shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.”

Betty giggles. It does run the risk of seeing her bandmates in the room opposite hers, but Reggie hasn’t bothered her all day, so maybe she’ll be lucky. In and out. No stress.

 

**1:28pm**

Archie returns to his door, hoping this time he’ll be able to get in. Reggie has to be done what he’s doing by now, surely.

He knocks on the door, loudly. “Reggie, I need to get in, ok?” he calls out.

“Do you have to?” Reggie calls back through the door, sounding annoyed. He can’t hear anyone else laughing this time.

“Yeah, I do, because we’re SHARING A ROOM!” he calls through the door, frustrated.

He tries the handle out of sheer desperation, and finds it unlocked this time.

Weird, as it was definitely locked before. Reggie’s guest must be gone.

Weirder is the mood he gets stepping into the room.

Reggie is half-dressed, sitting on his unmade bed watching television and frowning at it. 

“Are you watching local daytime television?” is the first question that slips out of his mouth, but he can’t quite put into words what’s truly weird about this scene in front of him.

Reggie scowls at him. “No. Maybe. Do you have a problem with that?” he snipes.

Archie sighs. “I have a problem with whatever is going on with you today, like you can’t just – indefinitely shut me out of our room?”

Reggie rolls his eyes dramatically. “Why are you whining about this, dude? It wasn’t _that_ long. You’ve done it to me before.”

He feels his temper starting to flare up. “It wasn’t just that! You’re – being a dick!”

Reggie groans. “I really don’t have the fucking _energy_ for your dramatics today, Andrews, ok?”

Archie glares at him. “My dramatics? Means a lot, coming from you.”

Reggie says nothing but glares at the TV.

He’s wondering what to do when he hears movement from the hallway. Someone trying to unlock a door across from them, very quietly. Like they’re trying not to be heard.

He frowns even deeper. If it’s who he thinks it is, that’s not gonna fly today.

Walking out into the hall, he sees Betty freeze, coming out of her room that’s directly opposite theirs, holding her charger and looking guilty.

“Planning to check in, were you?” he asks, already irritated.

“I thought we already agreed when and where we were gonna meet before the show,” she says, almost innocently – though the look on her face breaks this illusion.

“Yeah and why else would you talk to us?” he retorts. “Between you and Reg, I honestly don’t know whether I’ll even see either of you at the stage on time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Betty says, with a flash of danger in her eyes.

“It’s supposed to mean that you’re both being totally erratic! And him, sure, but I thought you cared more!” he snaps.

Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Of course, let him off the hook because he does this _all the fucking time!_ But no, apparently if I devote any time not to you two it’s ‘selfish’ and ‘erratic’ of me!”

Reggie appears, having been drawn out by the argument. “What am I in trouble for now, _Mom_?” he asks sardonically.

She rounds on him. “Well, let’s start with the fact you’re fucking high, and we haven’t even played yet. Is that enough, Reg?”

“Yeah, you could use a goddamn joint, babe. Might chill you out,” Reggie replies nastily.

“Fuck right off, Reggie,” she snaps back.

Archie shakes his head. “That’s it! Reg, It’s one thing to be getting stoned when you don’t have anything to do, but you’re off the rails all the time now. You’re always getting smashed, you’re always getting high, you’re always looking for a party and it’s _exhausting_ for us! We actually care about this band, and it’s like you couldn’t care less!”

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep up, _bro_!” Reggie retorts, and then turns on Betty. “Do we all actually care about this band? Because you’ve been pulling away for months. Just fucking admit you want to leave, ok? Maybe go back to your journalism major. Work on listicles for Buzzfeed.”

Now, she looks truly angry. “Oh, you do _not_ get to fucking throw that in my face like I’ve somehow been unfaithful to this band, Reggie Mantle!” she glares at them both. “But maybe you’re right. I gave up so much for this, and all I seem to get from that is having to run around after both of you _giant toddlers_ , holding your hands and cleaning your messes up. When do I get to let go? When do I ever get to let someone else organise everything?”

“Hey, I’m not nearly as bad as him!” Archie retorts, to which Reggie makes a noise and Betty glares at him.

“Seriously? Of course, that’s what you got out of all of that!” she says, and laughs mirthlessly. “You are so _fucking self-centered,_ it’s like you think you’re the protagonist of the Archie show! You might not be getting wasted nearly as much, but you only want to be in charge of the fun things! You want to be the face of the band, as long as you can just hook up with people and play music and someone else is getting your band gigs, and writing schedules and making sure you have everything when you travel!”

She’s so furious she’s almost shaking. “I don’t know why I thought it would be different, I’ve been doing it for you since you were fourteen, _God._ ”

He gulps, and tries to think of a response, but it won’t come.

Reggie snickers, and she turns on him again. “ _And_ you, Reg! Ol’ reliable Betty, always had your study notes or advice or whatever you needed, help you pass senior year and not get kicked off the basketball team!”

She gasps, and continues like she can’t – or won’t – stop.

“You know what? College was a breath of fresh air, because I didn’t have to look after anyone! I must be the biggest idiot for agreeing to drop out, just so I could look after you two again! Well, I’m fucking _sick_ of mothering you! Maybe I should leave you both to deal with it all!”

Archie finds his voice. “You want to leave? You could have – _said something_ – instead of just mentally checking out, and being quietly mad at us all the time! And, you were the one who wanted to leave college, remember, we didn’t force anything on you!”

 “But then she wouldn’t be able to feel morally superior to us, like she always has!” Reggie spits. “You’ve always had your eye on something on better, even when we dated in senior - but despite my fuckups, this has always been my only thing, Betty! And Archie’s for that matter,” he adds. It’s cold comfort.

She shakes her head in disbelief. “You want to go there, Reg? That was _seven years ago._ If you want to go into what’s really making it weird, maybe the fact that you’re still hooking up with each other! And you don’t even want to be together, and it changes the whole vibe whenever you go in and out of it! How is that respecting your _one_ thing, if you’re so willing to jeopardise it, just because you’re lazy!”

Archie is suddenly aware that they’re in a hallway, and hopes to God most of the acts in hearing distance on this floor are out at the festival. He’s doesn’t lie about his attraction to more than just women, now, but he’s never said it outright publically either – and he’s definitely never been public about the Reggie thing.

“What are you, jealous?” Reggie replies, angrily. “We’ve talked about this, it’s our business what we do!”

“Jealous? Don’t make me laugh. You remember how we ended?” Betty snaps back at him.

“Hey! Both of you!” Archie cuts across them. “Betty, could you maybe not shout all of my secrets loud enough for Southern California to hear them? And for that matter, it’s been several weeks since the last... I don’t know what you mean by the vibe ‘changing’ because friends argue, they get on each other’s nerves, even when they’re not hooking up.”  He turns to Reggie. “Or do you think I’m wrong, and you’ve secretly been mad about something you didn’t tell me about too?”

Reggie scowls at him. “Should I be? I have no idea. Apparently I’m just this _exhausting mess_ of a friend that you must be so fucking ashamed to lower yourself to. You guys don’t seem like my friends, so why are you still pretending?”

“We are –“ Archie starts, then thinks about it. “Actually, no, you don’t feel like friends to me.”

Betty looks at them, and Archie wills himself not to feel guilty looking at her big, hurt eyes. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know what I’ve done here, except for want a few hours not on call to you! But if that’s what you want, great. You’re not my friends. I’m tired of mothering you. I guess this is over.”

The ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach is rising higher, making him nauseous. He wants to be saying the opposite of this, but he knows he’s too hurt and angry right now to get the words out. 

Betty turns and walks off, shoulders shaking. Reggie shakes his head and walks back into their room.

Archie suddenly feels very alone in the hallway, and thinks of the one person he might actually want to be around right now.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's back, for now! I like this fic a lot, but I'm suddenly very busy atm so the next update probably won't be anytime soon :) 
> 
> Why yes, I did steal The Wombats' Cheetah Tongue for Fangs' song - I discovered while writing the early chapters of this fic, and it felt only right! Hope you enjoyed this one :)


	8. You've Got The Love//1:45-4:00pm

 

** 1:45pm **

“Couldn’t find your charger – “ Veronica begins, hearing the door open with a laugh in her voice that dies when she sees Betty’s face.

“You were gone a while, so I just put the TV to see if the arrest made the news,” she explains vaguely, muting the TV immediately. “What happened?”

Betty looks at her miserably, bewildered, like she can’t find words to describe it. It’s got to have been bad – though it would be a pretty awful coincidence for her to get bad news about her family today as well. But she’d left her phone in the room before she went to get that charger, so it couldn’t be external news.

“Come sit down,” she tries, comfortingly, patting a spot on the sofa next to her. Betty walks over, and sinks into the sofa like it’s physically exhausting to be upright, looking pale and miserable.

“What is it? You know I’m not going to judge you,” she says, getting more worried by the silence.

Betty looks at her, eyes glinting, and says in a small, shaky voice, “I think I just blew up my whole life.”

 

** 1:55pm **

 “- And that’s how, in the space of a few minutes, I managed to destroy my whole life, because of my stupid temper and my stupid impulsive behaviour,” Archie finishes, face twisted in some kind of angry, ashamed grimace.

“Well. I’m not gonna sugar coat it for you. That sounds like a total clusterfuck,” Jughead replies, looking at him as he stares morosely at his shoes. He’s never been too comfortable with comforting people earnestly, and it’s almost impossible with a near-stranger. But at the same time, he absolutely does feel how shitty this situation must be – he’s had some fights with his friends before (it happens when most of you are combative naturally, and you’ve known each other since you were kids) but never one as viscerally painful and damaging as this one sounds like it was.

Jughead had been planning to leave the cafe finally, and go back to his room – or attempt to brave the festival crowds to find one of his friends – when he’d seen Archie slumped on a couch nearby, with his head in his hands. He’d meant to just see if he was ok, but when he looked up – he looked so devastated that Jughead didn’t feel right about leaving him there. So he’d sat down instead, and asked.

Archie half-laughs, like it’s been surprised out of him, but it’s still small, and bitter. “You’re right,” he says, straightening up and looking at him.

“And how are we supposed to be ready to tune up and play in like – an hour and a half? I can’t see it happening,” Archie continues, anxiously. “But if we don’t, we’ll probably get, like, sued or something.”

Jughead nods. “I’m sorry I’m not more...comforting, about this. I know it doesn’t mean much, but it sucks you’re in this situation.”

Archie looks at him. “No, I appreciate it, actually. People are always sugarcoating bad things for me. I guess they don’t think I can handle it.” He pauses. “Maybe I can’t.”

They sit in silence for a moment. “If I might suggest something to you, without doing that,” he begins, tentatively. Archie looks at him, and nods.

“The way I grew up – there was often bad news, and my dad wanted to protect me, so he didn’t always tell me. But I always found out, and it was worse that way. It made me wish that he’d just told me,” He continues. “I suspect you grew up that way, except you never had to find out the bad news. Maybe that’s why people think you can’t handle it.”

Archie considers this quietly. “But, I hate being shut out too. I think that’s what started the whole thing. I just made it worse by flying into a temper,” he says, remorsefully.

Jughead is quiet for a moment, thinking. “My dad has a temper. It’s a little better now, but it had its effect on everyone in my family. It was shitty, to put it lightly. So this, I guess, is my advice?” he says quietly, unsure. “Don’t leave it too long with them. And don’t just apologise – understand what they want. Before it’s too late.”

Archie looks at him oddly, without speaking, and for a moment he worries he’s gone too far. Then he rubs his eyes. “You’re very good at this, actually.”

Jughead doesn’t know what to say to this, but finds himself smiling anyway.

 

** 2:00pm **

Sweet Pea paces the hallway outside of the elevators, engaged in a mental wrestling match with himself.

Once he’s fought with someone, it’s usually over. Finished. You have to be a pretty close friend to be forgiven or apologised to after a fight, and he rarely apologises even to his friends.

And when he’d stormed out of the hotel room earlier, he’d fully intended never to talk or see Reggie ever again. And nothing had changed, and he _really_ didn’t need someone like that in his life, still.

But some part of him wasn’t finished, felt like it wasn’t over. But why would he go back? Just to yell at him more?

They’re near strangers – what is he even hoping to get by going back?

He remembers the fight, sharply sucks in a breath at the memory of leaving, and Reggie’s face.

It makes him angrier, thinking about it. He has so much, and he’s just gonna throw it all away to chase some high? These fucking rich kids.

No. He needs to know what can happen. What does happen, all the time.

Sweet Pea sets off towards the door with renewed purpose and anger.

He knocks brashly, more intending to annoy than politely announce his arrival, but no one answers.

He’s not surprised, but instinctively tries the handle. It’s unlocked, unexpectedly.

He wonders briefly if he’s psyched himself up for a fight with someone who isn’t even here, but enters anyway.

It’s darker than he’d expect in here, darker than when he was in here earlier, but it otherwise looks the same. The TV is on, but no one is the room to watch it, which is weird.

He hadn’t anticipated how it would make him feel, though. It wasn’t even that long ago, barely two hours that they were here together, having a good time, but remembering it feels like it happened a year ago. And even the good memory of here is tainted by how he really should’ve guessed, and it makes him feel humiliated that he didn’t.

Reggie isn’t in this room, though. He should just go.

He means to, when he hears a noise from the bathroom and notices that the door is open. It sounds like someone retching.

He should really just go. If Reggie’s sick it’s going to take the satisfaction out of yelling at him.

He sighs, annoyed, and moves instinctively toward the bathroom.

He knocks on the door. “Reggie? You – ok?” he calls out tentatively, trying not to sound too annoyed.

It’s silent for a moment, then he hears a quiet, croaky, “No.”

It doesn’t say anything else.

“I’m – gonna come in now, ok?” he replies, feeling awkward.

He hears a vague noise he thinks might be agreement.

Even preparing for it mentally doesn’t take the initial shock out of the scene for him. Reggie’s slumped next to the toilet, looking pale.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs. “What did you take?”

“it’s not – “ Reggie says weakly. “I did a line. Or I tried to – something fucked up...” He trails off, then looks at Sweet Pea balefully. “What are you doing here, man?”

Sweet Pea bristles inadvertently. “I’m not here to apologise, if that’s what you mean!”

Reggie leans back against the wall, looking beaten. “Why should you?” he croaks. “I fucked up. I fucked it all up.”

He hasn’t known Reggie more than a few hours, but he knows this feels wrong. He knows – from recent experience – that Reggie’s not the type to admit fault. And not the type to just give up like this, to show this weakness.

He starts to feel slightly guilty, and sighs again, frown softening. “Look, Reggie – I didn’t mean –“

Reggie shakes his head slowly. “Not you,” he says quietly, then looks at him, looking utterly small and wrung out. “Well..not just.”

He looks down.

Sweet Pea looks about awkwardly, wondering whether to go or stay. They’re not exactly friends, obviously. But -  he probably shouldn’t be left alone.

“What else...is there anyone I can get for you?” he asks, uncomfortable.

Reggie doesn’t look at him, but laughs – a cracked, joyless laugh. “Nope. I don’t have any friends. I don’t have anyone,” he says, and looks down, and then a shudder passes through his shoulders.

It’s a moment before Sweet Pea realises he’s crying. He’s never felt the fight-or-flight urge so intensely, and that’s saying something.

In the moment, he breaks with all prior tradition and sinks down to sit next to him, gingerly patting his other arm. He doesn’t know even why, but it’s something he thinks Toni would do in this situation. She’s a good comforter.

“Uh –“ he stumbles. “What – what happened?”

Reggie opens his eyes, and looks at him surprised. “I – fought with my friends. I’m pretty sure they hate me now. Just after we – “ he breaks off, and looks at him with tired eyes. “Why are you here, Sweet Pea? Why’d you come back?” he asks, in a quiet rasp. “Not to apologise, obviously.”

It doesn’t offend him the way it seemed to earlier. It catches him off guard. “I – No, and I’m not sorry,” he says, aware this isn’t the most comforting but thinking he’d probably appreciate the honesty more. “I wanted – to yell at you. To yell some sense into you, or at least  - let you know what I know...”

Reggie doesn’t look away. “I’d understand if you wanted to yell at me some more,” he says bitterly. His face breaks for a moment again. “I’m such a _fucking_ mess – I’ve fucked everything up and I don’t know what I’m gonna do...”

Sweet Pea holds an arm around him, more confident now Reggie seems to appreciate it. “Reggie, you’re kind of mess, yeah – but, honestly, you need to stop self-pitying. You can fix your shit, ok? Not everyone can.”

Reggie gives a startled half-laugh at this. “You think?”

Sweet Pea nods. “I – didn’t tell you why I moved around a lot as a kid, did I” This is just a figure of speech, because of course he didn’t. It’s not something he generally puts up for common knowledge.

Reggie shakes his head slowly, suddenly looking serious.

He looks at Reggie, then down at the clean white tiles. “My mom was – she was erratic. Irresponsible. She used to drop me with friends, or occasionally family members – she wasn’t in contact with too many.”

Reggie looks sick, again. “She was an – an –“

Sweet Pea nods, not looking at him. “Addict. Junkie. Whatever. She was a bad mom – “ he breaks off, and takes a breath.

“You don’t have to –“ Reggie says, quietly, in the silence.

He shakes his head. “It’s – I can. She was – she barely had a high school education, I think. And when I was really young, I think she was working. I think she was trying. But she got sucked into cocaine from shitty boyfriends, and then smack, and she just – got worse, and cared about everything else less.” He takes a steadying breath, embarrassed at how hot his eyes feel even thinking about it, and then looks at Reggie with a kind of wild feeling.

“For her – she was fucked always. Maybe from the first bump she did. She was in a downward spiral that she wasn’t going to get out of because she had nothing, and no one, really,” he says in a rush, trying to get his point out. “You – you’re a mess now. You’ve got your own shit, I’m sure. But you’ve got people, you have the resources to get out of this. You haven’t ruined everything yet.”

Reggie looks terribly guilty. “I’m – that’s shitty. I’m sorry.”

He nods, and looks down until his eyes have stopped swimming. He looks at Reggie. “I’m not sorry – but I was probably a bit harsh, before. That’s – why.”

“I get it. And I know I’m in a better position than your mom was, to do something about it. But I don’t – I don’t have people.” Reggie says miserably.”My parents have never really cared about me as more than an accessory – my dad wanted me to run the family dealership, and has never forgiven me for staying in this band. Which I’ve completely fucked now, too, because my best friends for the last ten years hate me now. Which is also mostly on me.”

Reggie sighs. “.I’m an only child, and I don’t really date. They’re all I have.”

Sweet Pea lets him rest against his shoulder, having not dropped his arm yet. It’s oddly intimate, especially as even having sex with him hadn’t made him feel exposed like this.

“Look, I don’t know what fight you had. But as a guy who is _constantly_ getting into dumb arguments with the people I like most in the world – you’ll make it up. Maybe even in time for your show.”

Reggie half-laughs, but it sounds a little happier. “God, I almost forgot. Hopefully, or we’re in trouble.”

Sweet Pea looks at him. “I’m generally more of a pessimist, but – it’ll work out,”

Reggie looks at him, and Sweet Pea is suddenly aware that they’re very close again. Reggie smiles, a ghost of his usual confident smirk. “I really want  to kiss you – but I taste like vomit, so I won’t,”

Sweet Pea grins back. “Yeah, you smell like it too, I’m about to die.”

Reggie laughs, and pulls away slightly. “Yeah, might be good to take a shower before I talk to them. Unless you want to join?” he says, waggling his eyebrows a little.

“There he is!” Sweet Pea groans.. “And, eyes on the prize!”

He can’t help smirking. “We’ll see about later.”

***

** 2:20pm  **

Veronica smiles sympathetically at Betty, who looks a little cheered after a long vent of feelings and emotions.

“Oh, girl. I hate to see you like this,” she says, comfortingly. “So – now that you’ve got that off your chest, what are you gonna do?”

Betty groans and covers her face with her hand. “I don’t know – I was such a bitch to them.”

“Which, sounds like they kind of had coming,” Veronica adds.

Betty sighs. “Fair or not, they’re my friends. And we have a show to do. Or our manager will kill us, or we’ll definitely be sued.”

Veronica looks at her, seriously, and takes her hands.. “But do you want to keep doing this? Like, forget about all the obligations. Right now, do you want to keep playing in this band?” 

Betty seems taken aback by this, and takes a moment to reply. “Yes,” she replies, steadily. She looks at Veronica with some kind of wonder. “I – I didn’t realise it until we were talking this all out, but yeah – it’s like nothing else.”

“Well, awesome!” Veronica beams. “That’s all I wanted to make sure. That you’re happy.”

Betty smiles, and then her smile sags. “If I still have a band. I don’t know that they’ll want to talk to me.”

Veronica smiles at her, still. “I don’t think they’ll be able to stay mad at you for long. If they’re as good friends as you say, they’ll have been thinking about it, too.”

Betty nods. “I hope so,”

Her phone rings suddenly, and she takes it off the charger. She looks at the screen, and then back at Veronica in surprise. “It’s...Archie.”

Veronica beams, and waves her on. “Go ahead, talk to him!”

Betty smiles, and gestures to the door. “I’m just going to take this out there,” she says quickly, picking up the phone.

Veronica nods understandingly, and is suddenly left alone in the suite.

She turns the sound on the television news channel, but doesn’t hear much more that she didn’t already know from what they report on her father.

Sighing, she picks up the Macbook next to her, intending to mess around on the internet at least till Betty gets back.

A notification pops up informing her she has an email. From an email address she doesn’t recognise. 

She clicks on it, and reads the short message.

_“Veronica,_

_I know we do not speak very often, but I felt it was my duty to let you know what I know. I couldn’t seem to contact you on your phone number, which I was given by you in case of dire emergency. I would like to think something else, such as you just changing it, is why I can’t get through but I fear I know what the truth is._

_I know you’ll probably have found out by now about your father’s arrest. I felt you should know that my estranged husband turned evidence that most likely led to his arrest, for business affairs they conducted together over the last decade. I told Cheryl this, but in case she hasn’t told you, I felt you had a right to know._

_Sincerely,_

_Penelope Blossom_

Veronica pushes the computer away from her instinctively, not knowing how to react. Penelope never contacted her. She didn’t even like her. And Clifford had been a sort-of friend of the family, even though she’d never thought he and her father liked each other much – that’s how she’d first met Cheryl and Jason.

She sinks back, wondering how to take in the news that her best friend’s terrible father had just put hers in prison. And she’d apparently known.

***

** 2:03 pm **

“Why are we here again?” Toni asks, looking at some pretty turquoise jewellery.

Cheryl doesn’t look up from where she’s inspecting some silver rings. “We’ve got time before we meet them, I’m just...trying to explore the festival. I never get to hang out at these events.”

Toni gives her a sceptical look. She’s done this several times since she called her contacts and made plans to meet and discuss the situation, but since then she’s been floating in and out of stalls, almost doing anything but going to meet with them. And for someone who is intensely, scarily focused a lot of the time, it shows.

“Yeah, as much as I’m sure you’re a big fan of homemade turquoise jewellery,” Toni deadpans, “I don’t think you’ve ever wanted to just ‘hang out’ anywhere in your life,”

Cheryl tuts, looking annoyed. “You’ve known me for a grand total of two and a half hours, how would you know?”

Toni is taken aback by the sudden sharpness, but it’s not like she hadn’t been expecting it. She shakes her head to herself, oddly almost smiling about the whole weird situation.

“You’re totally right – I’m chasing people down with a stranger, while my real friends are somewhere else, and the friend I left them to hang out with is dealing with your friend’s crisis. Which has nothing to do with me,” she says, to the rack of earrings she’s looking at.

She looks at Cheryl, next to her – and Cheryl unexpectedly softens. “I – I apologise for my rudeness. That was not fair of me. I’m just feeling very stressed right now,” Cheryl says, and smiles apologetically. “I’m sure you’d rather be with Betty right now, catching up, instead of running after me. I just – I want to help Veronica through this,” she says in an undertone. “I’m glad you’re here though.”

Toni looks at her, and knows she’s being manipulated – even just a little – but finds she doesn’t mind. Cheryl doesn’t seem like the kind of girl that apologises easily. 

“No, I’m enjoying being here,” she says, with a small smile. Cheryl smiles, a little, real smile, and moves her hand closer to where Toni’s is touching a handmade necklace.

Toni keeps her gaze, until she sees Cheryl’s eyes flick over to the stall keeper, an older woman. “We should go though,” she says, back to businesslike.

When they exit the tent, Toni turns to Cheryl. “So, we’re going to meet them now then?”

But Cheryl looks less worried now they’re out of the tent. “Actually...there’s this really good smoothie bar around here –“

Toni laughs, surprised. “Really? Remember, if we don’t meet with your friends, you’re the one who’s gonna be screwed?”

Cheryl smirks. “I am aware of that, Toni. But we don’t really need to meet them before two-thirty, believe me they’re busy.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in her eye, again. “These smoothies are great, trust me. I’ll drive us there, we’ll be in and out.”

Toni looks at her suspiciously, even though she’s still smiling herself. “If I didn’t know better – but, hey, it’s hot. Take me to your amazing smoothies,” she says. “I hope you haven’t oversold them,” she says, with a laugh.

“You don’t even know,” Cheryl says, smirking even wider.

***

They’re on route back from the shop, when Cheryl’s phone rings. The smoothies actually are pretty good, although the zeal that Cheryl had in driving them there doesn’t seem to match up with that.

“Can you grab that? It might be Veronica,” Cheryl asks her. “It’s in my handbag,”

Toni grabs at Cheryl’s big designer handbag, idily thinking she probably doesn’t own anything that cost as much as this probably did. Her car, maybe, or maybe not as it was a bomb when she bought it.

She rustles around the bag. “You’ve got way too much shit in here, just saying,”

Cheryl laughs, keeping her eyes on the road. “I like to be prepared,”

Toni’s fingers close on something heavy and thin, and she pulls the phone out of the bag. Just as she goes to answer it, she notices the caller is “Mom” – but the picture being displayed is two women, similar looking but neither of them red-headed. The moment of hesitation is enough for her to miss the call, and she notices there are lots of missed calls on the lock screen. And that the picture on the lockscreen is Cheryl and her best friend.

“Did you miss it?” Cheryl asks, eyes ahead still. She’s a surprisingly safe driver.

“Yeah – Cheryl, is this...why do you have Veronica’s phone?” Toni asks, looking at her with confusion.

If Cheryl is attempting to look normal, she’s not doing a great job of it. “I – must have accidentally taken it from the room, thinking it was mine.”

Toni doubts this. “No, I felt something like another phone in there. So, what gives?”

Cheryl’s face falls. “Fuck,” she says, and pulls off the road.

They sit in Cheryl’s vintage rental car, with its expensive leather upholstery and neither of them say anything for a moment.

“Is this what’s going on? All this wandering around and avoiding what we’re trying to do?” Toni starts, confusion giving way to veins of frustration as her brain recontexualises everything they’ve done since leaving the hotel room.

She looks at Cheryl, frustrated. “Because I thought we were here to help your friend. And if that’s not what we’re doing, then I’ve been wasting my day!”

Cheryl looks back, wild-eyed, at her. “I am trying to help her!”

Toni narrows her eyes, baffled. “What?”

Cheryl sighs, looking fragile. “I know it seems – I swear, I’m not a terrible friend, ok? Or not as bad as it looks to you,”

Toni shakes her head and looks out through the passenger-side window at the cars passing by.

“Well...explain it to me, then,” she says, looking back at her, softening slightly. There’s certainly something weird going on, but Cheryl actually seems to be telling the truth. Of course, she wouldn’t know if she was lying, necessarily.

Cheryl looks down at the phone Toni’s still holding, bitterly. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Start with why you’re trying as hard as you can not to meet with the people who might save Veronica from facing a performance she’s not ready for?” Toni continues, dryly.

“I’m not –“ Cheryl starts, but backs off at Toni’s unimpressed look. She makes an irritated noise and takes a breath. “Alright, but – if you tell people about this, I will sue. I’m not kidding,” she says seriously, looking at Toni.

“Understood,” Toni says, wondering what she would even tell anyone.                                                                                                                                              

Cheryl sighs again, dramatically, and Toni wonders if she has a chaise lounge solely dedicated to supporting her fall on cue after everytime she sighs like that home.

“So I’m sure you remember that we’re going to pay my friend Kevin Keller a visit, as he is here with the band he manages – Josie and the Pussycats?” Cheryl begins.

“The only band that is near enough, luckily, apparently thanks to you – and big enough to take over your spot and still please the audience, sure,” Toni agrees.

Cheryl looks at the dash, and Toni notices she looks even more miserable, even a little watery-eyed. “Josie and I...we have history,” she says quietly, and she realises it’s more than just that.

“Josie McCoy?” Toni asks, mildly stunned. She’d never really thought about it, or at least she thought she hadn’t, but even still she can kind of see it. From what she knows about her as a celebrity, she’s talented – but driven, and probably just as intense as Cheryl.

Cheryl looks at her like this is a stupid question. “Yes, that Josie. Which, again, you cannot tell anyone about,”

“Chill, I don’t mess with celebrity gossip anyway,” Toni replies, somewhat offended.

Cheryl relaxes a little. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Toni replies, and can’t help but feel bad for her again. Which is terrible, as she’s definitely kind of a dick, but she does seem to be trying not to be, at least.

“So, you were dating? When?” she ventures, figuring she may as well ask.

Cheryl sighs. “It was barely a relationship,” she says, and lets out an unexpected little chuckle, devoid of humour. “We knew each other from the industry, but we got to know each other better when we did this song with them – our record company had been trying to make it happen for ages, they were just salivating at the thought of how much they could make out of this ‘girl power team up’.”

Toni grimaces, thinking of the exact kind of music industry man who speaks that. “So you couldn’t be public, and that’s why you broke up? And that’s what’s making you dodge meeting her?” she asks, then something strikes her. “But, you were supposed to be performing with them, as a surprise, anyway? What were you gonna do originally?”

Cheryl looks flustered. Which is unusual, at least in today’s experience. “I – I don’t know. I’ve seen her once, briefly, since we ended it. And I thought I could just deal with it, for V, but the closer it got I just –“

“No – I get it,” Toni jumps in, and Cheryl looks grateful. She looks at Cheryl, curiously. “But like – sure, you’re anxious to see your ex, ok. Why steal your best friend’s phone when she’s going through a crisis this intense? What does that have to do with it?”

Cberyl pouts, “I know it looks insane, but I had my reasons, ok?”

Toni laughs, half amused and half irritated. “So then tell me! At least so I know what I’ve been sucked into?”

Cheryl looks at her, and sighs. “Alright, granted. It’s a complicated, fucked-up story, I warn you. I’ll try and shorten it for you. I promise it has a point. My best friend – really my only friend, the only person who got me, my twin brother – died, when I was seventeen,” she says in a controlled, tight voice.

Toni is taken aback, but still can’t see how this is related. But she says, honestly, “I’m sorry.”

Cheryl catches her eye, and nods slightly in recognition. “This is where it might get awkward, but I have to explain to get to the phone situation, alright?”

Toni nods, very curious now.

“I think my father had something to do with it. I have never been able to _prove_ as much, but I’ve put a few things together, and my gut is never wrong –“ she breaks off, and looks straight off. “Anyway, it means I barely talk to my parents. My mother’s a harpy, my father’s a monster, I don’t miss them.”

Toni takes this in, and finds herself speaking. “Yeah, mine wouldn’t win any parenting awards either.”

Cheryl looks at her, interested. “I doubt they’re worse than Clifford and Penelope Blossom, but tell me about them?”

Toni looks at her, puzzled and somewhat suspicious. “You wanna know?”

“I’m interested,” Cheryl says, matter of factly.

Toni doesn’t say anything for a moment, surprised. “Well, like a lot of people they weren’t assholes on a dramatic scale. They had their good moments – well, my dad did. Harder to remember with my mom,” she begins dryly, still kind of surprised that Cheryl wants to know.  She hadn’t really had her pegged as the shoulder-to-cry-on kind of friend.

“My mom – for whatever reason – left my dad and me, when I was about six. I don’t remember her much. And then my dad never really got over it, I guess,” she continues, and can feel the familiar anxiety from whenever she talks about them. She doesn’t cry for them now, because she had learnt not to early on, but she can’t pretend there isn’t still an ache.

“He wasn’t always an asshole, my dad,” she says, wondering why she still feels like she should defend him. “But when he was, he really was. He was mean when he drank, and he drank more and more. And then he died, coming back from the store at an intersection, where he probably wasn’t ‘supposed to be. He was drunk, obviously,” she says, and looks straight ahead through the windshield, focusing on the cars driving past. She wonders how she even got to this point, telling a stranger something only her best friends know.

She feels Cheryl’s hand lightly on hers, and looks back. Cheryl looks paler than usual, but with a grim sort of understanding on her face. “I’m sorry about that. Sounds like they definitely give mine a run for their money,” she says softly, and Toni looks at her appreciatively. They sit in comfortable silence for a moment.

“Although sounds like yours were assholes on a dramatic level,” Toni replies, half-joking – but Cheryl looks at her, and laughs.

“You’re right about that,” she says ruefully. “Don’t – tell her I said this, but honestly? V’s parents are kind of the worst too. But she’s an only child, she’s only ever been their golden child.”

Toni thinks she takes some pleasure in this, secretly. “Well, in my limited experience of rich people, I’m not surprised.”

Cheryl’s face falls. “And that’s what I’ve been trying to say all this time – she’s always had people love her. Her parents, friends, everyone loves her. But she’s all I have,” Cheryl says fiercely, and looks at her. “And I would do anything for her. And to protect that,”

Toni nods in acknowledgement. “I still don’t understand how that’s a part of taking her phone, though, Cheryl. Her mom has called like ten times, she’s probably freaking out,” she says, still confused.

“I knew she’d probably ask Betty to use her phone, that she wouldn’t go without calling her,” Cheryl says, sounding matter-of-fact even in her remorse. “And now I guess I’ll tell you why, although I can’t promise you’ll understand it.”

“Alright, hit me. I’m hard to shock,” Toni replies, invested now.

“I’m sure you’re not exactly familiar with why Veronica’s father was arrested?” Cheryl asks, although she’s pretty sure it’s rhetorical.

“Well, I had no idea he existed until today, so no,” she deadpans, anyway.

Cheryl gives her a look, but it’s also somewhat fond. “He was CEO of his family’s business, and he was very rich. But he was also up to some dodgy stuff apparently, because he was arrested for fraud.  My father often did business with him. Earlier, I got a call when we were talking,” Cheryl explains.

“I remember,” Toni adds, and Cheryl continues.

“It was my mother. We haven’t spoken in maybe two years? We’ve barely communicated since Jason – anyway, I was shocked to hear from her, given that she hates me and isn’t the kind of mother who calls to check-in,” Cheryl says, allowing herself a humourless snigger.

“So she said to me, that my father had turned evidence against Veronica’s that had been the clincher in his case. And she said – she said to me that either I could tell Veronica what I knew, or she would – she had her number in case of emergencies, from a while ago, and she said – Veronica had a right to know what –“ Cheryl says, voice shaking with rage. “What _we_ had done to her. Not him. Not her. We.”

Toni has to admit that's pretty terrible parenting, although not more than she's experienced. "Did you ask her - I don't know, not to?" Toni asks, feeling she already knows the answer.

Cheryl laughs, and it's brittle. "Oh I asked, even though I knew it was useless - I tried to appeal to any shred of motherly affection she might have ever held for me, and you know what she said?"

"What?" Toni asks apprehensively.

Cheryl looks at her. "She said I deserved to lose my only family, and she didn't care if I was miserable, because she had lost the only family she cared about and I should be as miserable as her,"

Toni lets out a breath. "Wow. Yeah, l don't think even mine wanted me to be that unhappy. What a piece of shit."

"I have other words in mind," Cheryl replies, lip curling. Her face falls again as she looks at Toni. "So I started panicking, in my mind, about what V would say once she got that call from my mother. How she would look at me. Then I saw her phone under a cushion on the sofa, and I just thought - if I can just stop her getting that call - if I can just stop it, it will be ok," she says, sounding deflated.

She takes Cheryl's hand this time.

"Cheryl, you have to know she'll probably find out soon anyway, right?" she asks gently.

Cheryl sighs, and looks back at her. "I wasn't thinking long-term, ok? I just made a split second decision and my day keeps getting worse," she says, morosely, then brightens a little. "Except, for you, of course," she adds, with a small smile.

She really is unrealistically, art-history renaissance muse, dollishly beautiful. Even her current sadness and embarrassment does little to dim that. Toni looks back at her, and notices she hasn't let go of her hand yet.

"Do you think I'm - crazy?" Cheryl asks suddenly, in an uncharacteristically timid voice. "This is something a crazy person would do to a friend in crisis, right?"

"Oh, absolutely," Toni agrees.

Cheryl half-laughs, taken aback.

Toni grins at her. "But it would be crazy whether you did it, or I did, or Betty did. Doesn't mean I think you're nuts,"

Cheryl smiles, relieved.

Toni looks at her in the eyes, then. "But babe, if you were dealing with some issues, I wouldn't think less of you, OK?"

Cheryl looks back at her, a little sad. "You don't know what you're asking. There's a lot," she says, seriously.

"I wouldn't mind finding out," she replies softly, smiling.

Cheryl smiles at her, the happiest, most gentle, most genuine smile she's seen on her all day, and leans forward.

Then Cheryl's phone rings, breaking the moment. Cheryl sighs, dramatically, not for the first time in the last half hour. "Damn. That's probably Kevin," she says regretfully.

Toni nods rapidly. "Totally. Go get it,"

She's feeling a little awkward now, as she waits for Cheryl to have her conversation, reflection on the moment just before they called.

"I know, ok? We'll be there soon," she says, with a touch of her old imperious manner.

She spots Veronica's phone again as Cheryl hangs up.

"You know what you have to do with this?" she says meaningfully, intending to breeze past the awkwardness.

"Yes, but I don't want to," Cheryl replies grimly.

"Just talk it out with her - if I, a stranger, can understand it, she knows you well enough to. It'll be better if it comes from you," she says, sympathetically.

Cheryl groans. "I know," she says, and starts the car again. Then she looks at Toni with some of her old mischievous grin coming out again. "By the way, we might have a lot to do right now. But this?" she says, motioning between them. "To be continued,"

Toni can't help smirking as they drive off.

*

** 2:20pm **

Kevin comes back into the bus, and looks at Josie. "Ok, they're on their way, just a head's up,"

Josie nods, but a nerve twitches under her eye. "Good to know,"

Kevin shares a look with her, which she returns in such a way that even Fangs understands she's dismissing whatever he's silently enquiring about.

"I have another call to make, but I'll just be outside, if anyone wants me," Kevin states, airily, smiles at Fangs and walks off again.

Fangs smiles to himself, sipping his second mimosa. It'd proven to be a weirdly addictive drink.

Josie notices, and smirks. "He likes you, I think," she says quietly.

Fangs wonders for a moment what he should say to this. He's not at all famous enough for it to matter, and he's not ashamed - but somehow it's still weird to be sitting with someone this famous, even as welcoming as she's been, and telling them very personal things.

"He's a cool guy..." he says, hedging his bets.

Josie looks at him knowingly. "I'm not trying to pry, like I don't know your deal - I am still keen to find out the story behind that nickname - but believe me, I'm not judging," she says with feeling, and pauses, choosing her words. "But if you only think he's 'cool' and nothing more, just - don't lead him on ok? He'd be mortified I'm even saying this, but he's more soft-hearted than he likes to appear. And I hate to see him get hurt,"

Fangs is surprised, not having expected the protective sister angle that the conversation had taken.

He smiles, kind of relieved. "I - don't just think he's 'cool'. I do...like him," he says, quietly, suddenly feeling warm-faced and teenager-ish. He looks at Josie. "Not that I really can...so he's not...with anyone?"

He attempts casual nonchalance and she grins. "Nope. So you are interested?"

He laughs, somewhat awkward but not embarrassed. "I - I don't know! Maybe?"

He decides to just go ahead and say it to her, as long as he's apparently just telling her things. “You guys – you’re on a different level to me. I have a part time job in a cafe, and you’re – and he’s...got it together so much...” he says, feeling embarrassed. Not because of his life, but it sounds dumb when he tries to explain it.

Josie chuckles. “Believe me, Fangs. He seems all cool and mature now, but you should’ve seen us watching _How To Get Away With Murder_ together. Or Eurovision. He is a mess for Eurovision.”

Fangs laughs. “Oh no,”

“What?” Josie asks, still grinning.

“I actually am that too. My friend Toni and I have to hide our love of it. I’m pretty sure our friends would never speak to us again if they knew we were still watching it together,” he says, sheepish but laughing.

Josie laughs too. “Oh no! Well, your secret’s safe with me. Maybe we can have a viewing party sometime. I think Kevin would be in.”

He grins. “Sounds good,”

He watches her grin deflate slightly as she looks at her phone, and hesitates before asking the question on his mind.

“Hey, you don’t have to – but you don’t seem that excited to see – it’s that girlband, _Total Betty,_ who’s coming to see you, right?” he ventures.

Josie looks surprised, defensive, then replies. “I – yeah that’s them. I’m not – We know each other, I’m fine to see them,” she says, unconvincingly.

He raises an eyebrow, and she frowns. “Ok, I’m only saying this because you were honest with me. But If I see this on _dlisted,_ or something, I will sue you into oblivion,” she says, in a fierce near-whisper.

He nods. “Fair enough.”

She sighs. “We did a song together, with them. And I haven’t seen them in a while, but I agreed to come be their surprise guest because we were in the same state for once, but now I’m feeling – I don’t know, weird, about it. About seeing them,” she says, and he can tell she’s still holding back.

“Them as in both of them?” he asks, carefully.

She stares back at him, and groans. “You’re perceptive.”

He shrugs. “Sometimes. So...who don’t you want to see?”

She looks down at her nearly-empty drink. “Well, Veronica’s lovely, and we always get along well. Well, you know most of us – save maybe Mel, who tends to avoid conflict if she can – have strong personalities, so maybe there’s a bit of friction sometimes, but she’s great. And Cheryl,”

At this Josie drains her glass. “We...” she says, but she doesn’t have to fill in the blanks for Fangs. He can tell from the expression on her face.

“How long ago did it end?” he asks, gently.

Josie shakes her head. “A while ago. Nearly a year, and we’ve barely seen each other in the last few months.”

Somehow, even though this is completely new information, he’s not surprised. Maybe because Josie, Mel and everyone here already feel like friends he’s known for years.

“Do you still...like her?” he tries, thinking this barely gets at what he’s trying to say, in an embarrassingly childish way. But she doesn’t scold him.

“No. Yes. I think, I just would like closure,” Josie says, sounding tired. She looks at him. “We weren’t right for where we both are in our different lives. I don’t – think it was a mistake to admit that. But it ended awkwardly, and I’d like to just – make it good with her.”

Fangs nods. “I mean, that’s fair. You’re talking to someone who hasn’t been in a relationship for a while, but I always want to make things right, even when they’re over,”

Josie seems to ponder this. “Yeah, I mean that’s the satisfying thing for me,”

“I mean, one of my other best friends, he’s a scorched-earth kind of guy. If he has a breakup fight with someone, he’s ready to never see them again, go full ghost.” He smiles fondly, thinking about it.

“Really? No second chances?” Josie asks, interested.

He chuckles. “I’d like to see the person who could make him come back. They’d make a terrifying pair.”

She grins. “So, no relationship...no judgement, but is that just because you enjoy hooking up with groupies too much? Or is it a personal choice?” she asks, curiously, half jokingly.

He looks at her, surprised. “Not exactly. I enjoy being single, but I guess...just looking for the right person.”

She nods her agreement, smiling at him. At that moment, Kevin re-enters the bus with two young women in tow. One is a glamorous red-head, beautiful in a privileged way, where she commands the attention of any room she walks into. She’s familiar, because he’s probably seen her in music videos, or on the cover of magazines out of the corner of his eye.

But she’s not as a familiar as the girl next to her –

“Fangs?”

She looks mystified to see him.

“Toni?” he returns, equally bewildered to see her with another famous popstar, who’s come to meet with Josie and the Pussycats.

“That’s Toni?” Josie starts, sounding confused.

“You know Cheryl’s friend?” Kevin adds, which only confuses him more.

“Is that a _mimosa_?”

***

** 2:38pm **

Toni can honestly say, even with all of the dramatic, out-of-the-ordinary, random turns her day has taken, the last person she expected to see when tagging along with one half of a famous pop duo, to see a different and just as famous pop-rock to broker a deal -  was her own co-lead singer, But once she gets over the momentary shock, she’s also very happy to see him.

She raises her eyebrows at him, and he shrugs, getting up to walk over to her. “It’s surprisingly delicious. Why don’t you make me more cocktails when you’re at work, Tone?”

She grins. The guys are always getting free drinks out of her at the bar, and they tend to go for the more dudely whiskey/rum based drinks, but Fangs is the most amenable to a cocktail, if  she asks him at the right hour. Which is good, because she’s always dying to practice making them.

“You won’t let me make you any unless you’re already tipsy, dude,” she replies, and realises everyone is lookng at them. Not in a hostile way, but she remembers what they’re here to do.

Fangs looks at the well-dressed young man, who was introduced to her as Kevin, band manager, who looks back at him bemusedly. “So this is...”

 Fangs jumps in. “Kevin, this is my co-lead, and one of my best friends, Toni Topaz.”

Kevin smiles. “When we met outside, Cheryl didn’t tell me your full name, I love it! Very rockstar.”

She smiles, a little surprised by the comment. “Thankyou, I think? It’s the one I was born with,”

“To be fair, I didn’t know her last name at the time, Kevin,” Cheryl defends, then smiles at her briefly. “It’s very pretty though, Toni,”

Kevin gives Cheryl a look that Fangs doesn’t miss and shoots back at her.

“We’ve heard a bit about you, actually,” comes a different voice, warmly. Toni realises it belongs to Josie McCoy, who has also left the table where Fangs had been sitting with her, and has come up to say hi. She’s even more beautiful in person, and her skin is luminous. Maybe this is what happens, when you make as much as they all do. She’s momentarily aware that she’s still in the same clothes she’s been walking around in the hot California sun all day in, and hopes she doesn’t smell too bad. At least she’s wearing deodorant.

Toni doesn’t miss that she’s not looking at Cheryl yet, and definitely looking at her – maybe not meanly, but definitely sizing her up, probably because she’s a stranger whose just arrived with her ex.

“Nothing bad, I hope,” she says lightly.

“No, just you come up in Fangs’ stories a lot. Sounds like you’re a great partner-in-crime,” comes a different voice, from a semi-familiar face. Two other girls have joined them, and she’s seventy-five percent sure they’re the other members of the band. The girl that’s just spoken is also giving her a friendly look, but she seems to just be happy to meet her, no ulterior motive. Which is very odd, considering the girl is the one in the world-famous band. She suddenly feels a flutter of nervousness, which is weird because she doesn’t usually feel uncomfortable around celebrities and big musicians.

“Yeah, didn’t think we’d get to meet you, this is fun!” the second girl, who Toni thinks might be the bassist, says. She’s very pretty, and seems pretty laid-back. 

“I, ah, didn’t realise you would know who am I when I got here,” she says, with a small laugh that she hopes just sounds more awkward to her ears.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Toni. I’m Mel, this is Val, in case you didn’t know,” the first girl jokes, in a way that sounds like it comes from prior experience.

 “This is kind of surreal, I think you guys are just – amazing. I wasn’t gonna go all fangirl, but it is _insane_ you know who I am. I love your music,” she says, and hopes she isn’t just embarrassing herself. She doesn’t usually get star-struck,

Josie seems to like this, and her smile becomes warmer. “That’s so nice to hear – we actually heard a song of yours before, it was dope. I hope we hear more from you guys soon,” she says, and there doesn’t seem to be a trace of irony about it. Toni’s still processing that someone this famous has heard their music, and she doesn’t even know which song.

“Actually, Toni got us into doing this killer cover of _Seashore_ , she absolutely makes it,” Fangs puts in, smiling proudly.

Toni can feel her cheeks growing hot. “It’s obviously, not as good as the original. I just love the song so much.”

Josie looks thrilled, though. “Oh my god, I would love to see that,”

Mel and Val look excited about it too. “Do you have it on video? Is it on youtube?” Val asks.

“We might have, of course after you talk to...” she trails off, realising she’s momentarily derailed Cheryl’s meeting. She hadn’t meant to.

She looks at Cheryl, who looks like she has her best pleasant professional face on, but she can tell it’s a little strained.

Everyone looks at Cheryl, and there’s a definite hush over the group.

She looks at Josie, in the kind of effortless, calm way that means she’s putting a lot of effort in. “I didn’t want to interrupt – “ Kevin seems to be fighting a smile at this. “But it’s kind of important that I talk to you guys as soon as possible. Thanks for seeing me,” she says, measured and charming, like she’s not the kind of person who would ever berate frount counter hotel staff over thread counts.

Josie returns her gaze in the same measured, calm way. “Of course,” she says, and smiles a little. “Good to see you again, Cheryl.”

Cheryl seems slightly off-balanced by this, but recovers almost instantly. “Good to see you too, Josie,” she says, with a small, polite smile.

Toni wonders if Mel. Val or Kevin know anything about it. If they do, they’re working hard to not notice anything weird about this exchange.

“Well, to business?” Kevin asks.

Cheryl turns to her. “Well, I have to go talk with them now, will you wait for me? I shouldn’t be _too_ long, but you know...” she asks, looking somewhat hopeful.

Toni nods, and smiles at her warmly, hoping Cheryl understands that she’s sympathising and wishing her luck non-verbally. “Yeah, I’ll hang out with Fangs, you go.”

Cheryl smiles at her. “Thanks, Toni,” she says, and walks off to the other end of the bus with the others.

Fangs raises his eyebrows at her again.

She pre-empts his question with one of her own. “What in the hell are you doing here, Fangs?”

He laughs. “Me? I could ask you the same thing, When did you become buds with Cheryl Blossom?”

She shakes her head. “I’m glad to see you though. It’s been a weird day,”

He grins. “I know the feeling. I’m glad you’re here though.”

***

** 2:45pm **

Toni has made them both mimosas, and Fangs can feel himself starting to get a little tipsy – he wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but anyone who’s ever attended a wedding reception knows that even three glasses of champagne will do that to you.

“And so, now we’re here, and Cheryl is going to try and get them to go on,” Toni finishes up explaining. It’s taken a long time, and Fangs almost can’t believe the high-level rich people drama she’s been dragged into almost totally by chance. Except, he thinks as he sips high quality champagne in a mimosa on the tour bus of one of the most famous bands in the world, he kind of can.

“And this is because Veronica is like, emotionally catatonic?” he asks.

“Not exactly – but yeah, she’s going through a lot, and it might go badly if she tries to go on. So, we’re trying to get them to be able to leave,”  Toni replies, sounding a little exhausted herself.

“Without being sued, right. That is a damn story, Tone, jeez,” he replies, thinking about it. He looks over at them, where he can’t hear their conversation but it looks a little tense.

Toni looks too. “Do you think they’ll go for it?”

He shrugs. “Why would I know? I only met them a few hours ago,”

Toni grins. “Seriously, you have to tell me now. How did you even end up here?”

Fangs laughs. It’s maybe a less dramatic story than Toni’s – there is no petty theft, fraud convictions, or yelling at a festival organiser – but he still can’t really explain it.

“I really don’t know,” he says, laughing. “I guess – I didn’t have enough cash to pay for my churros, and I thought I did, and then someone paid for mine. And that person was Mel,”

Toni grins, seeming just as excited by his relatively mundane story. “She bought you a churro? Aw, I knew I liked her.”

He laughs again. “Yeah, she’s awesome. We just started hanging out afterwards, looking at the stalls. Then she got a call to come back here, and invited me along. And everyone’s been very nice to me, it’s weird. I keep thinking they’re going to be like ‘you’re still here?’”

Toni laughs. “I mean, I can’t imagine why they’d want you around,” she teases and he swipes lazily at her. She gets an annoying, older-sisterly, knowing look on her face. “So, Kevin’s been very nice too?”

He shakes his head, and it’s like every time she’s ever deduced he’s been into someone going back to when they were kids. She’s insufferable, and she’s usually right. “God, you’re so annoying,”

She cackles victoriously. “I knew it! He’s pretty, I’d go for it.”

Fangs tries to give her an unimpressed look, but she has a way of making him laugh. “You’re the worst,” he starts, grinning. “But...I know right? He’s really smart, and he has a really sharp sense of humour.” He sighs, and sips his drink. “But like, it’s not like that matters. We don’t even live in the same state. And his life is so much bigger than mine,”

“I mean, it’s not that far from Portland,” Toni tries, and smiles comfortingly. “And hey – you’re not a barista, I’m not a bartender.  That’s just what we do to pay our rents. We’re musicians! And we’re on a track, and I intend to see us through, ok? They’re not on an unattainable level. Don’t let that scare you.”

He looks at her and shakes his head again. “It’s not even – I don’t even know if he’s interested in me. We’ve only talked a few times.”

Toni looks disbelieving. “Buddy, my dude, I have eyes. And I saw the way he was looking at you. I think it’s safe to say you’re in with a chance.”

He grins. It’s nice to have that validated, even if nothing ever comes of it. But – maybe he wants to make something of it?

Looking at her, it’s his turn to grin knowingly. “Anyway, what about you and Pop Melisandre over there?”

Toni looks caught off guard, and attempts a blustery, “You know I won’t respond to your _GOT_ references. I once straight ignored Jug for a full hour, I’ll do it again,”

He grins, knowing he’s on the money. “Avoiding the question. You must really like her.”

She rolls her eyes, but can’t help a smile that’s tugging on the edges of her lips. “I – I don’t know. I mean, yeah, but it’s...complicated.”

He nods. “Don’t I know it,” he says, and looks at her directly. “I hope you’re following the advice you just gave me, then. You’re absolutely on her level, any day. If not higher.”

She smiles, like she needed to hear it. “Thanks, babe,” she says, and looks down at her glass, and then at Cheryl talking to Josie on the other side of the bus, with the rest of them listening intently.

“I hope Cheryl’s ok over there,” she says, actually sounding a little worried.

He follows her gaze. “And Josie,” he says, almost automatically.

Toni looks at him funny. “Do you –“ she says, like she’s trying to phrase it well.

He gets an inkling of what she’s thinking. “Do you – know?” he asks quietly.

She looks surprised, but not confused, “Do _you_ know?” she replies, in a near- whisper.

He gets the sense they both know what they mean, but are afraid to say it first.  “About Cheryl and Josie?”

She sighs. “Oh thank God, I was dying to tell you. But she swore me to secrecy, obviously.”

“Josie did too,” he explains. “But I guess – neither of us told us anything the other didn’t already know, so hopefully they won’t sue the crap out of us.”

Toni chuckles. “Yeah, sounds like Cheryl.”

He grins. “Not to be weird, but having met them both now, I kind of understand?”

Toni grins back. “And you haven’t even seen Full Cheryl yet. This is restrained for her.”

He blows out a breath. “Wow. Seems like your type.”

Toni laughs. “Don’t even start with me, Fangs, I _will_ come for you.”

He laughs and takes another sip of his drink. It really is nice champagne, although he’s not exactly an expert.

***

** 2:57pm  **

Betty races to the room that Archie is sharing with Reggie, feeling more nervous than the first time they ever performed in front of a crowd of people that weren’t just teenagers. That was just low-level nerves, but this – this is a real anxiety, that maybe it won’t all work out. But Archie had called her to meet him here, and he had sounded truly apologetic.

She gets to the door just as he is getting there, and he seems to have rushed here as well. For an awkward moment, they stand and look at each other silently, and she remembers how angry she had been before. But she can tell that he’s been beating himself up – she can always tell – and she feels herself welling up. It’s still him – the same kid that would make sure she got home ok, even when they were just catching trains and walking everywhere, before they learned how to drive, and looped back to his house from her’s even though it added time to his commute. The same kid that bought her the first guitar strap she ever owned, and couldn’t understand Algebra if his life had depended on it and came up with the idea to jam together in the first place, and ‘see what came of it’.

“I’m – “ she tries to get out, at the same time he says, “Betty –“

She feels the last strand of her resolve that was holding strong, waiting for an apology, crumble and he meets her in an emotional hug. She’s crying on his shirt, and he doesn’t seem to care. She thinks he might be crying too, but she doesn’t know.

When he lets her go, she can see that she was right. He smiles abashedly as he rubs his eyes. She carefully does the same thing with her own eyes, then looks at him.

“I’m sorry, Betty,” he says simply. And somehow, it’s all she really needs to hear from him right now.

“Thanks,” she says, smiling slowly, which falls when she thinks about what she said to him. “I’m sorry for what I said to you, Arch,”

He nods slightly, awkwardly. “You weren’t wrong.”

She feels another strong pang of remorse. “Right or not, I shouldn’t have said it. You’re my best friend, and I should have,” she breaks off, searching for the right way to put it. “I should have just – told you, when I started noticing it. When I started feeling annoyed.”

He smiles at this, a little. “I could do with a heads-up in future. So I’m not doing just being a total dick without realising it,”

She half-laughs at this. “I’ll try.”

He grins.

They stand in comfortable silence, before he breaks it.

“So. Reggie, then,” he says, apprehensively.

She nods, biting her lip. “Think he’ll forgive me?” she says, with some trepidation.

“You? I think he’s pretty pissed off with me too,” Archie rebuts, looking worried,

Betty looks at the door and sighs. “Well, we’ve come this far. If we can make it up with each other, we can make it up with him right?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Archie replies, sounding unconvinced. Reggie is – and always has been – the type to stay angry after a fight for exactly as long as he wants to be. He’s better at apologising, eventually, now than when he was fifteen, but it’s never really fun to deal with.

He looks at her. “I’ll go if you do.”

“Together, then,” she says.

But as they go to open the door, the handle moves, and the door opens. Reggie appears in the doorway, looking kind of shocked to see them there.

"You're here - " he starts but his voice sort of dies in his throat.

No-one says anything for a moment. He looks awful - pale and little shaky, his eyes watery and red-rimmed. She feels a stab of guilt, and resists the urge to ask if he's taken anything. She doesn't want him to think she's attacking him again.

He coughs, and attempts to gather some of his normal composure. "Betty, Archie," he says, acknowledging them formally.

"Hi Reg," she says, quietly, in a concillatory tone.

Archie smiles apologetically at him.

"We -" she goes to start, but something changes in his expression and he cuts in.

"I fucked up," he says, looking almost surprised he's saying it, though not as surprised as she is to hear it.

"We all did," Archie replies, after a moment.

He shakes his head. "No, I really did. I fucked things up the worst, and I didn't want to - admit it -" he continues, and sniffs.

He looks away for a moment, then looks back, eyes shining more than ever. "Someone recently told me that I was a hot mess, but I could still fix my problems. They were right - I just - I'm so sorry, guys," he says, and his face crumples.

"Dude, if you start crying, we'll all start," Archie says huskily. "And then we'll be here forever,"

"What do you mean, you'll start? Looks like you already started without me," Reggie rebuts, with a weak smile, and that makes them chuckle.

"Come here, you idiot," Betty mutters, sniffing.

Reggie smiles, but his lip wobbles as she pulls them into a group hug.

"I'm sorry, Reg. I'm so sorry," she says as they pull apart. "I shouldn't have attacked you like that. I should have brought it up in a better way,"

He nods, rubbing his eyes. "But I kinda needed to hear it,"

Archie looks at them both. "And I'm sorry for starting the whole thing. I was just feeling kind of anxious and out of the loop, but I wasn't fair to either of you."

Betty nods. "I don't know why I went AWOL - I just kinda freaked out, and seeing this girl from college, it just really threw me,"

Reggie looks interested, even operating at about at a tenth of his usual smug smile. "Oh, a girl is involved? Anyone we know?"

Archie smiles. "Yeah actually, who is this mysterious girl?"

She groans, and laughs. "I'll tell you later, but lets just focus on getting to soundcheck first."

Then she's reminded of something, hesitates, and decides to go ahead. "And this is probably awkward," she says, looking at them meaningfully, and drops her voice even though the corridor is empty. "But that wasn't fair of me to comment on. It's your business. I'm sorry."

Their eyes flick to each other and back to her. "Still - I think it's good to know - how you feel. I don't want you to feel like - you can't - say things to me, y'know?" Archie stumbles out. Reggie murmurs agreement.

She looks at them - her boys, her best friends - and feels her eyes starting to water. "Thanks,"

Archie smiles at this, and so does Reggie. It makes Reggie look much less fragile and pale, but she still worries about him.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Reg?" she asks, as non-judgementally as possible.

He nods rapidly. "Give me a me few mins to get ready and we can be on our way,"

"Laser Lotus lives?" Archie asks, beaming.

Reggie and her both groan, but it does little to hide their delight.

"Laser Lotus lives!" they reply.

***

** 3:50pm **

Jughead stands in the crowd - not closest to the stage because he doesn't want to be trampled - and waits.

Archie probably won't be able to see him in the crowd, but he'd called him to say that he'd made things up with the band and he'd love it if he could say thanks in person after the show. And more than that - he felt like he should come and support him. I mean, they'd come out to see their much less packed show.

He doesn't know how they ended up exchanging numbers, either. He's not really the kind of guy who does that - but at the time it had felt right. Like they were already friends. Like it just made sense he'd want to be able to contact Jughead again.

As he's thinking about this, his gaze lands on a tall guy a few feet away. A suspiciously familiar tall, dark haired guy.

"Sweet Pea!" he calls. Sweet Pea turns around, but so does a girl in a bikini top and denim short-shorts, who gives him a dirty look. He shakes his head at her, glaring back, and then looks back at Sweet Pea who is making his way over to him, looking puzzled.

"What are you doing here?" he asks at the same time as Sweet Pea says, "Didn't expect you to be here of all places, Jug?"

They're both quiet a moment, as they both parse what the other has said.

"I thought you'd be holed up in your room right about now?" Sweet Pea asks, slightly supiciously.

"And I didn't think you were this big a Laser Lotus fan?" Jughead asks, narrowing his eyes just as suspiciously.

Jughead gets the sense there's definitely something he's missing. And Sweet Pea looks almost sheepish, somehow, under his supicious expression.

"Yeah, I could say the same to you," he throws back defensively.

He realizes this, and feels like hopefully he can bluff this one out. He doubts Sweet Pea will be thrilled to hear who he's here for.

"Uh, yeah, well they came to ours, so," he says, casually.

Sweet Pea looks wary but seems to buy it. "Yeah, I mean...that's why I'm here. Obviously."

"Right," he says carefully.

"Right," Sweet Pea replies, watching him.

In the moment of silence afterwards, he remembers meeting the band after they got offstage, and then something strikes him.

He frowns. "Tell me you're not here with -" they both say unison.

"The male model-bro -" he says, groaning.

"With the stupid hair?" Sweet Pea continues concurrently, frowning.

"-and the stupid face?" They both finish, and sigh deeply.

"Yeah," he admits, after a second, shaking his head. "I am,"

Sweet Pea shakes his head too, in apparent disappointment, then sheepishly agrees. "Me too. I know."

This makes Jughead laugh, and then Sweet Pea laughs too.

Then he looks at Jughead, puzzled. "Wait, didn't you slip off after the introductions? I didn't see you hanging out backstage."

Jughead stops, and tries to think back. It had been a long day.

"Uh I - kinda of bumped into him looking for his friend. Toni's friend?" he tries to explain.

Sweet Pea seems to recognise this. "Yeah actually, I remember him talking about that, just before he rushed out of the room. He was pretty fuckin' stressed about it, for some reason?" Sweet Pea says this with a vaguely derisive tone and a smirk.

"You have no idea. Lot of drama there," he says meaningfully, dropping his voice.

Sweet Pea chuckles. "Yeah, I kinda think I do."

It's Jughead's turn to be curious. "So, what are you doing here, then? I thought Fangs would've been with you. Where is he?"

Sweet Pea shrugs. "No idea. He must be having a good time though, because he hasn't texted me since I left with Reg..."

Jughead feigns shock. "You didn't,"

Sweet Pea glares at him. "Don't judge me, Jug," he says crossly, making Jughead grin. "Surely finding Gingerlake's friend didn't take several hours?"

Jughead is caught off-guard. "I - to be fair, after we found her, I was planning to just sit in the cafe and write. He was the one who kept coming back to talk to me."

Sweet Pea smirks. "Mhm. Sounds like pot and kettle to me, Jug."

Jughead raises a defensive finger. "Hey - no - he was just asking for advice. It's not that."

Sweet Pea looks unbearably smug. "Sure. And he didn't ask you to come see him play?"

"Well, yeah -" Jughead admits, and falters. He knows Sweet Pea's just needing him, as they've done back and forth since they were kids, but today its more annoying than usual. So he decides to tell him the truth.

"It's not like that because he's not like that, ok?" he says, attempting casual difference and as usual, hitting moody. He soldiers on, anyway. "If he's into anyone, its Toni. The reason I went with him originally was because she was with Betty. I was worried about her."

Sweet Pea looks at him oddly, like he really wants to say something, but doesn't. He sighs. "God, Jug..." he says, and starts again. "You know Toni would kick your ass for that, right? She can handle herself," he says, with a small smirk.

Jughead nods, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, I know. I need to check myself when I'm being possesive and paternalistic and other bad things beginning with 'p'," he deadpans.

Sweet Pea chuckles. "Yeah, simple: don't be a prick."

Jughead grins at this.

Sweet Pea looks at him, hesitates and looks at him in a way he can't quite read. "Look, Jug, I don't know his deal. But it wasn't Toni he spent all today hanging out with."

Jughead processes this, and replies only with "Uh,"

Before he can say much more the crowd screams, announcing the band's intentions to start.

He looks at Sweet Pea, and they both grin, and look at the stage.

Archie is at the mic, and looks fully in his element - not at all like just a few hours ago he'd been having a meltdown and questioning his future.

Sweet Pea is watching Reggie, who is starting out at the keyboards, almost proudly. Even smiling, with barely a hint of irony. Jughead makes a mental note to bring it up later.

He turns to him, and says, "They pulled it together pretty well, huh?" He's not afraid of anyone overhearing while everyone is rapt listening to Archie introduce the band.

Sweet Pea looks at him. "You're telling me," he says quietly. "We've got things to discuss after this, believe me."

Jughead nods, grinning, and, feeling usually ebullient, cheers for Toni's friend Betty as she's introduced. Sweet Pea cheers too, and louder for Reggie.

Jughead nudges him, and Sweet Pea rolls his eyes - but for once, he can't fully commit to it and breaks into a grin.

***

** 3:32pm **

Toni returns to the tour bus with Fangs in tow, wondering if Cheryl's finished talking it out with the girls.

She turns to Fangs. They're a little tipsy, having decided to continue day-drinking at a nearby drinks-tent.

"Do you think they're done yet?"

He shrugs. "Maybe knock?"

"I can't knock, Fangs, what if something important is happening?" she chides him.

He throws his hands up. "You asked!"

But before she can decide what to do next, the bus door springs open and Cheryl comes out.

For a moment, her face is neutral. Toni feels strangely apprenhensive, even though the outcome can't really affect her. But then, she breaks into a wide smile. Toni hasn't seen her this happy all day.

"They said they would do it!" she says excitedly.

"Oh my God!" Toni replies, beaming. "You did it!"

Cheryl beams at her. "We did it, Toni!" Cheryl squeaks and hugs her, which she returns tightly.

The moment she lets Cheryl go she can tell Cheryl feels a little awkward about it. Outbursts of genuine emotion in front of Toni is one thing, but that usually hasn't been in front of other strangers.

Cheryl's eyes flick over to Fangs, who looks at Toni.

"I'm - gonna go see what Mel's up to," he says, and leaves, giving her a look as he passes.

Cheryl smiles at her.

"So, you got everything sorted with them?" she asks Cheryl.

"Yes. It took a while, and a lot of negotiating," Cheryl says, with a meaningfully tired look, and then smiles again. "But, I'm great at convincing people to do what I want."

Toni chuckles. "Yeah, I know!"

Cheryl smirks. "Actually I was going to go Harvard and do a law degree, but then I got into music and decided that was what I needed to be doing."

"Yeah, I did a similar thing," Toni cracks.

Cheryl has the good grace at least to look a little ashamed.

"Sorry," she says.

Toni smiles at her. "I think you would've been a scary great lawyer. But I'm glad you didn't become one."

Cheryl smiles. "I am too."

Toni thinks of something, and hesistates, then thinks they've been through enough today to ask.

"So...how did things go with Josie, then?"

Cheryl nods, her hair falling around her shoulders.

"We did," she says, a little wistfully.

"How did it go?"

Cheryl sighs. "Good, I think. There's a lot of - miscommunication there. But I think we talked most of it out, and I think we - are past it now. Past the hurt, and feelings. I'm happy for her to move on, now."

Toni smiles at her. "I'm glad."

Cheryl takes her hand. "And she's happy for me to move on, too."

"Really," Toni says, smiling more.

"Yes," Cheryl says simply, and kisses her.

Breaking apart, resting against each other's foreheads, Toni feels light and bubbly - and not just because she's still a bit tipsy.

"When did you have - margaritas?" Cheryl asks softly.

Toni giggles. "Fangs and I had to find something to do, while you were in here, ok?"

Cheryl laughs. "Ok, fair enough?"

"Hey, hope I'm not interrupting..." comes a voice behind them.

Toni turns to see Veronica Lodge walking up to the bus.

"You're here, thank God!" Cheryl says excitedly. "V - I got them to do it!"

Veronica doesn't react how Toni would expect. Instead of relief, or happiness, her expression stays steadily neutral. Looking at her, her eyes look dark.

"I need to talk to you. Privately," she says, pointedly.

Even when Toni'd found out that Veronica's father had been arrested, she hadn't been this cold to Tonight. She wonders what the hell worse thing could have happened between then and now.

Cheryl's smile falters a little.

"What is it? You can say it front of Toni, you know that," she asks, sounding confused. "Did something else happen with your father?"

Veronica's eyes flash. "Fine, you want her to be here for this? Fine."

Her eyes flick over to Toni and back, and she looks at Cheryl with now barely-concealed anger.

"Your father. Helped put mine in jail. You let me freak out and you _knew_."

Cheryl blanches, and Toni's stomach drops.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been over a month but I'm finally finished this chapter! What can I say, I suddenly got a full-time job and that has been a lot. Next and final chapter is coming, hopefully sooner rather than later!


	9. 3:30-8:30pm//final song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back (after 500 years) and I'm sorry this took so long to finish, but between work and my laptop breaking, it's a small miracle this is here today! Thanks for sticking with it, hope this final part lives up to your expectations :)) (also sorry for the weird spacing, I posted this from my phone and I'm just too tired tonight to figure out how to make it look normal)

**3:35 pm**

 

Veronica looks at them both, and realizes Toni must know too, which is just - amazing. Just the cherry on the top of this shitty milkshake. Of course, the girl Cheryl only met a few hours knows about this very personal and secret matter, but god forbid she tell her best - and, really, only - friend.

 

Toni looks so worried for her, too. Cheryl has an uncanny ability to pull people into her bullshit and make them sympathetic to her, like a hurricane of daddy issues and poorly concealed rage.

 

At that moment, Fangs comes out of the bus, calling for Toni.

 

"Hey Tone, I just realized Betty's band is on soon and we should probably -" he gets through, impressively, before he notices everyone's expressions. 

 

"Uh - or I can..." he says, and trails off, looking to Toni for help.

 

She looks to Cheryl, with a clear "do you need me to stay?" look. Cheryl shakes her head, and gives her a tight smile. "You should go to the show."

 

Toni nods, and smiles supportively. Veronica can't help but think, somewhat vindictively, that her and Fangs' haste to leave exposes how grateful she is not to have to be in the middle of this awkward situation. Not that Veronica blames her - small animals scurry, and birds fly west when she's in a real rage. And is she ever right now.

 

Alone, at least barring anyone else bursting out of the bus, Veronica stares at Cheryl. Cheryl still looks shocked, and a little ill. Which is rich, she thinks. 

 

She still hasn't said anything to refute the claims. She hasn't said anything at all. 

 

"Well, Cheryl?" she says, feeling her voice shaking with some rage.

 

Cheryl looks pained, and opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again. 

 

Veronica shakes her head, suddenly refreshed in her anger. "You know what, no. Whatever you're spinning in your mind to explain 'why this isn't really your fault - "

 

"But it's not -" Cheryl bursts out, with a momentary flash of righteous anger, from which she immediately calms, contritely.

 

"Really?" Veronica snaps.

 

Cheryl stares at her, defiantly. "I know you don't want to hear it OK, V? I know it was shitty to not tell you about it as soon as I knew, OK?" she says fiercely, and sighs like she's tired. Well, she's got nothing on exhausting this day has been for Veronica. Seeing Betty again, then the madness of her father's arrest, and then learning Cheryl's been lying about how much she knows about it - it's too much to deal with. 

 

Not to mention, she's going to be missing Betty's show soon, which is just great. Definitely the impression she'd wanted to leave her with.

 

"I know this has been an awful day for you, OK V? Maybe I just - couldn't add to that for you. Or maybe, even more than that, admittedly -" she looks away, and back, frustrated and upset. "Can't you understand it, even a little? My mother  _ relished _ it," Cheryl spits the word out, voice shaking a little more now. "- telling me. I swear I hadn't even talked to her in months before this morning. She knew exactly how it would feel to me - my family responsible for destroying yours. Everything I've built, away from them, destroyed."

 

Veronica looks away, focusing very hard on a point in the distance. Then she looks back. "I don't care about that, C," she says, eyes still watering. "You're not a part of your father's company. You aren't responsible for what he did to my father...it's that you  _ saw _ that - how messed up I was over it, and you had information you could have shared with me about it, to shed some light on a situation I was so in the dark over - and you kept it to yourself!" she says, picking up speed again. "We don't play mind games with each other! Or we might as well be seventeen again!" 

 

Cheryl looks aggrieved at the accusation. "That's not fair, I wasn't doing that! I wasn't planning something when I kept it from you, or when I took the phone I just panicked -" she says, and cuts herself off.

 

Veronica sighs, exhausted by even her own anger. "That's why I couldn't find it, of course. Jesus, Cheryl, why?" she says, tiredly.

 

Cheryl looks down, embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that, too. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but I just -" she looks at Veronica. "My mother said she would call you and tell you that secret I already knew. I just saw your phone and - panicked - and grabbed it, hoping maybe if she couldn't call you she would give up, that she'd stop. But of course that vindictive old hag wouldn't - and then I was leaving " she says, sounding genuinely apologetic and small. 

 

A part of Veronica wants to stay righteously mad, but a growing part of her is already feeling bad, again, about Cheryl's awful mother. It does seem, now, like she was put in a bad position, but she's not quite ready to admit that to Cheryl.

 

Cheryl looks at her. "What would you have done?"

 

"I would've told you what I knew, instead of letting you stew -" she starts irritably.

 

Cheryl groans. "Would it have helped? Really?"

 

Veronica feels her temper flare again. "Well - I wouldn't have -" she splutters, feeling angry that now she can't even seem to get any words out.

 

"Wouldn't have what?" Cheryl replies exasperatedly.

 

"I don't know!" she explodes. "I'm just - confused. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, C," she says, feeling herself tear up, but this time makes no attempts to sweet them away.

 

Cheryl looks sympathetic, and holds her hand out to take Veronica's. "I am really sorry. I'm sorry that I made it harder." 

 

Veronica feels herself let out and unintended sob, and then she's allowing herself to be pulled into a hug. It's comforting, and familiar, and impossible to hang onto her righteous fury.

 

When they pull apart, Cheryl looks at her seriously. "Are we OK?"

 

Veronica smiles, and attempts to wipe her eyes without smudging her makeup much more than it's already been smudged.

 

"I meant it, Cheryl. I don't know what to do...I'm not sure what I want," she says miserable.

 

Cheryl looks at her cannily. She has always had an eerie talent for knowing what you were thinking.

 

"Maybe...you know more than you think?" she says, and takes her hand again. "Start with right now. What do you most want right now?" 

 

Veronica thinks about it, and remembers the stall she smelled in the way here.

 

"Churros," she says, and laughs. "I haven't eaten anything deep-fried in forever."

 

Cheryl laughs too. "OK, we can get that pretty easily, I think. Anything else?"

 

Veronica looks down and back at her. 

 

"It's - it's not important," she starts. "It's probably not possible, either, anyway," 

 

Cheryl gives her a look. "C'mon, what?" 

 

She sighs. "I don't know - I think I sent you on a bit of a wild goose chase this morning. I was so stressed, and emotional, and I thought I wanted..." she breaks off.

 

"You want to perform tonight, after all," Cheryl guesses with a smirk.

 

Veronica looks at her sheepishly. "I thought I couldn't deal with it...but honestly, it might be exactly what I need to do," she sighs, and motions to the bus.

 

"Probably can't cancel them though, after all the work you and Toni went to getting this set up." 

 

Cheryl looks pensive but full of renewed purpose. "Why not ask them to go back to the original plan? That way, they don't have to plan an entire set last minute, but they still get to play. And John is happy, too."

 

Veronica winces. "Oh God, and I made you talk to John. I'm so sorry." 

 

Cheryl scoffs. "He was easy to deal with." 

 

"Yeah, I meant more to him," Veronica teases, but Cheryl laughs anyway.

 

"Should we go ask them, then?" Cheryl asks.

 

As if on cue, Kevin opens the door of the bus and looks at them with concern. "Everything OK out here?"

 

Veronica smiles brightly at him. "Couldn't be better, Kevin. Good to see you!" 

 

He smiles. "Same to you, Veronica! I didn't know you'd be joining us?" 

 

Veronica looks at Cheryl, who smirks. 

 

"Oh no," Kevin says, sounding mildly apprehensive. "That's her plan smile. What are you planning, Cheryl?"

 

Cheryl smirks wider. "We have a proposal for you."

 

Kevin raises an eyebrow.

 

***

 

**4:55pm**

 

Fangs has to say - as someone who has heard of, but not even particularly familiar with Laser/Lotus prior to today - they're a lot of fun to watch. Their sound is catchy and light, but well put-together enough to be more than just forgettable indie pop slush. Which, coming from someone with a truly shameless love for forgettable pop slush, should say something.

 

He watches Toni watching Betty, a proud grin on her face, and looks at the confident blonde girl whaling on the drums at the back of the stage. He wouldn't have guessed she was a drummer, or that she could look so in her element there - she was certainly friendly when they'd met, but definitely more subdued than now.

 

Toni grins at him. "Aren't they great? I'm so fucking  _ proud  _ of her," she shouts over the music. "She really did it!"

 

He grins."Yeah, they're pretty great, Tone. Shame Cheryl couldn't come see them too," he shouts back.

 

Toni nods, with a 'yikes!'-kind of look. "And Veronica, I know she really wanted to see it. She looked pretty pissed though. Hope they're ok?"

 

Fangs raises his eyebrows in agreement, then something catches his eye in the near distance. A tall, dark haired boy standing next to a shorter one in a beanie.

 

He pokes Toni lightly. "Hey Tone, look," he says, and she follows his gaze. 

 

"Well, well," she says.

 

Sweet Pea and Jughead are watching the band with rapt attention, seeming to be genuinely enjoying the show in a way they probably wouldn't if they were all together.

 

Toni nods at the band meaningfully and looks back at him.

 

He nods, knowingly. He's not exactly sure when Jughead got friendly with anyone in the band, but he knows who he left Sweet Pea with, and can guess who he's mainly here for. He can't really blame him - the bassist looks like a male model, or like he should be on a teen show involving vampires or something, even if he did seem like a bit of an idiot earlier. Where attraction counts, his best friend is only human - as much as he'd be loathe to admit it.

 

Laser/Lotus hits their triumphant final note, and the redheaded, hot dude-bro-type, lead singer - Arnie? Archie - leans into the mike. "We've been Laser/Lotus, you've been ...fucking amazing, San Jose!" 

 

The crowd cheers. "From us to you, thankyou so much...none of it of it would be possible without you guys showing up for us, being here."

 

Fangs looks back at the boys. Jughead is actually smiling, a little.

 

"Wanna go surprise them?" Toni asks him, and he laughs.

 

"Absolutely."

 

Walking up behind them, Fangs taps Sweet Pea on the shoulder. He definitely jumps a little, and then does his best to pretend otherwise.

 

"Enjoying the band then?" Fangs asks, grinning.

 

"I - " Sweet Pea starts. Jughead, too, looks surprised to see them.

 

"You guys - made it," he tries awkwardly. 

 

"We - did," Toni replies, smirking. "I promised Betty I'd try, after all."

 

Jughead nods mechanically.

 

Toni turns to Fangs. "Well I know that - I - promised her, at least. Why are you here, Fangs?" 

 

He grins mischievously. "Well I told Betty I wouldn't miss it." He looks at the boys. "Also, there are some  _ very pretty  _ boys in this band, Tone." He looks at her.

 

"Oh yeah, gorgeous," Toni replies, smirking.

 

"But I think they already know that." 

 

Toni giggles at the reaction this gets from their friends. 

 

"He's not - I'm not trying -" 

 

"Don't know what you're trying to -" Sweet Pea blusters. 

 

"Just here to support a friend, OK, do you have to, just," Jughead protests, frowning.

 

He can't help but crack up a little with Toni.

 

Sweet Pea raises a finger, and points it at them, opens his mouth and then closes it again.

 

He looks to Jughead, who is still frowning silently.

 

Toni pouts at him. "Aw, Jug, we're just teasing. Just didn't expect to see you here."

 

He continues to frown but Fangs can tell he's softening.

 

The guy can hold a grudge forever, but he can't seem to stay mad at his friends for very long.

 

Toni pokes at him. "Still mad?" she says lightly, grinning.

 

Fangs grins too. He's about to crack.

 

Jughead sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically, a patented Jughead moving on without giving the satisfaction of a laugh move. 

 

Sweet Pea frowns at them. "Who's to say we're not just here to support some new friends. Maybe we've made the same promise you made Betty?" he contends, looking like he's trying to convince them.

 

Fangs gives him his patented "don't bullshit me, I'm your best friend and I can tell" look, the same one he's developed since they were at least ten years old.

 

"Sure, you just met  _ those _ guys and thought they were just, cool guys who you two - you guys, who are not the most social guys I know - thought you'd love to hang out more with. You just thought you'd come to a loud, crowded show packed with strangers, just to be polite. You guys," Fangs deadpans.

 

"Uh-huh," Toni agrees, frowning disbelievingly.

 

Sweet Pea sighs, and glares at them both. "You guys are the actual worst, just in case you didn't know," he says grumpily. "Fine, OK? I'm here, specifically, for the bassist guy. I know. Get your jokes out now."

 

Fangs smiles, trying not to make a big deal out of it. He hadn't expected Sweet Pea to actually give up that easily - he must like this guy more than Fangs realised.

 

"We're not going to make fun of you. It's not fun when you give in so easily," he teases.

 

"Yeah, dude, you could do worse," Toni adds.

 

Sweet Pea smirks.

 

"So, then, how - what  _ happened _ there?" Fangs asks.

 

Sweet Pea shakes his head. "Later.  _ Long _ fucking story."

 

Toni turns to Jughead, curiously. 

"So...good afternoon?" she asks, faux-innocently.

 

He narrow his eyes at her suspiciously. "I know what you're implying Tone, and yes I had a good day, actually. But all I'm doing here is supporting a friend." He relaxes a little. "I kind of felt like I - should be here to witness this. After everything they've been through today." 

 

Sweet Pea raises eyebrows in understanding. "God, I know, right?"

 

Toni looks at Fangs quizzically and he shrugs.

 

Jughead winces. "Sorry, there's been so much going on, I forgot what you already knew."

 

"What's been going on with the band?" Toni asked, sounding a little less giggly.

 

Sweet Pea shakes his head. "Again, we'll talk later. Not here."

 

Jughead agrees. He looks at her, and Fangs, like something's just occurred to him. "Actually, where have you guys been, for that matter?"

 

Fangs grins at Toni. "Like you said. Long story. Big day."

 

Toni laughs. "That's kind of an understatement, but yeah. We'll catch you up later." 

 

Sweet Pea looks interested. "Honestly, I think I've got you beat for intense drama, but sure, looking forward to hearing it."

 

Toni raises her eyebrows at him. "Don't be so sure." 

 

She looks at the stage. "Ok, let's see if we can get in and meet with them!"

 

Fangs notices the boys do their best to seem casual about this, and nods at her. "I'm in."

 

***

 

**5:13pm**

 

Toni runs toward Betty, having gotten her to let them through to backstage, and feels a sense of deja vu. Only this time she's the one running, the one congratulating.

 

Betty looks thrilled, as she runs up to her. "Toni! Guys! So glad you could make it!" 

 

Toni beans. "I wouldn't have missed it! Well, it was a bit dicey for a moment there but Fangs and I got here in time!" 

 

Betty nods. "Well, I won't hug you, I'm so gross and sweaty -" 

Toni scoffs. "If I can hug Sweet Pea after shows - much to his embarrassment - I can hug you, get in here!" 

 

Sweet Pea grunts his disagreement, presumably about her hugs, in the background. Betty laughs, and obliges her in a warm if expectedly damp hug.

 

Betty looks at the rest of the guys after. "And you all, I really appreciate you coming,"

 

"They wouldn't have missed it, trust me," Fangs chuckles, and Sweet Pea elbows him in the ribs. 

 

Betty looks interested, but doesn't pursue it. "Well, I'm sure we'll all be thrilled that you came," she says, nicely. "They're through here, if you wanna come with me."

 

"Sounds great," Toni says, grinning. "That OK with you all?" she says, semi-jokingly.

 

Fangs grins back, and the other two nod, attempting a kind of nonchalance.

 

"Sorry we haven't had any time to really hang out today, Toni," Betty says apologetically, quieter, as they walk in front, a little ahead of the boys.

 

Toni looks at her, surprised. "We hung out earlier though? Don't apologise." 

 

Betty still looks sheepish. "Yeah, but that wasn't just us. I didn't mean to derail us getting to hang out today - I didn't realise catching up with Veronica would be so...dramatic," Betty replies, with a little half-laugh.

 

She looks at Toni, suddenly curious. "Where'd you get to, with Cheryl, anyway? Is that what was dicey?" 

 

Toni laughs. "That's a whole story, involving the festival promoter, who Cheryl went toe to toe with, much drama, crying, intrigue, a famous band, and Fangs unexpectedly just chilling with them when we got there."

 

Betty laughs incredulously. "Wow. And I thought I had an intense day."

 

Toni looks at her seriously. "Not that you have to say - but Jug mentioned something happening with you, or the band, or something?" 

 

Betty's eyes cloud over for a moment. 

 

"Yeah," she replies, and Toni can tell it's an understatement. She wonders what the hell would be  _ more _ intense than all of the Veronica drama.

 

Betty drops her voice again."I won't go into it here but some - stuff, that we'd been ignoring for a really long time came to the surface and it was -" she breaks off, looking like she's trying to find a way to explain it.

 

She sighs, and looks at Toni. "Well it was pretty bad, to say the least. It nearly broke us."

 

Toni sucks in a breath. "Christ, that sounds intense. But you worked it out?"

 

Betty nods, and smiles. "Thanks to Veronica. She talked me through it. And, I'm getting the feeling it's probably thanks to your two other friends, too?" 

 

Toni raises an eyebrow, smiling. "Really? Interesting." 

 

Betty giggles.

 

"So, Veronica's...OK? How is...that all going?" Toni asks, carefully.

 

Betty sighs at this. "She's good for now...or at least she was when I last saw her..."

 

Toni thinks back to the last time she'd seen Veronica - and how full of fury she'd seemed - and wonders if Cheryl's OK.

 

"...but yeah, I don't know. Otherwise - I think that maybe we're in too different places right now," Betty continues, a little deflated.

 

Toni frowns. "Are you sure? From what I saw, she was definitely thrilled to have met up with you again." 

 

Betty shrugs. "I don't know. I was comforting her, then fighting, then being comforted, then making up with the boys. Not a lot of time to have a talk about it." 

 

"I'm sorry then," Toni replies, sympathetically.

 

Betty smiles ruefully. "Que sera sera, and all that." 

 

She looks at Toni, with a bit of a smirk. "Speaking of, what's going on with you and Cheryl? She behave herself?"

 

Toni can't help but smirk back, remembering the kiss that's not two hours old yet.

 

"Uh...yeah. She's a lot more fun to hang out with out than I thought." 

 

Betty laughs. "Sounds like you had a good day." 

 

Toni laughs too. "Yeah...as weird as it's been, it's been a good one." 

 

"Well, sorry I wasn't there for more of it," Betty replies, smiling ruefully.

 

"Well, there's always tomorrow."

 

***

**5:31pm**

 

Veronica listens to the phone dialtone ringing out. It finally picks up.

 

"Veronica?" Betty's voice is laughing, and it sounds like she's in the middle of something fun. "Where are you? How are you?"

 

"Good, I'm fine - I'm nearby, can you meet me at the stageside and let me through?" she replies, feeling guilty. 

 

She hadn't finished her big talk with Cheryl for ages, and by the time she'd remembered there was a show on she had been meaning to go to - once they finished talking - she'd only made it for the last song. She didn't go into the deep of the crowd - at this point in her career it wasn't a good idea - but she'd been recognized and taken some selfies with fans, and by the time she'd got away it was much later than she'd realized.

 

Betty laughs. "Of course! Come backstage, I'll be there in a minute," 

 

True to her word, Betty is there soon enough, looking flushed but glowing with happiness. 

 

"I won't hug you, I just played drums for an hour," she says, with an apologetic grin, making Veronica laugh.

 

"Fair enough," she says, then looks at her sheepishly, reminded of what she's meaning to apologise for.

 

"I - missed your show. Well, I saw the end, and it was spectacular, girl, really, but I got caught up, and I'm sorry -" she says, as apologetically as she can.

 

Betty looks surprised, and maybe a little disappointed, but shakes her head. "That's - fine, Veronica. You've had so much to deal with today - I didn't really expect you to see us." 

 

Veronica sighs. "No, that's the thing - I really was planning to be here! You're my friend, and you helped me through so much today - I just, got into some drama with Cheryl that took longer than expected to get through," 

 

Betty looks concerned now. "About your dad?" 

 

Veronica feels her chest tighten thinking about it again, but nods quickly. "It's a lot of just, stupid family drama. I'll tell you later."

 

"But it's OK with you guys now?" Betty replies, seriously.

 

Veronica smiles at her. "Yeah, we talked about it a lot, and we're OK now. Speaking of which, I see you patched things with up with the guys?" 

 

Betty beams, almost radiating happiness. Whatever happened since they last saw each other, when Betty had been devastated and pale and convinced that she'd ruined her life as she knew it, could have only been good. She'd say it seemed to have been resolved fast - but given the last twenty-four hours of her life had been an emotional loop-de-loop, she couldn't really judge.

 

"Yeah - thank you so much for that advice, and telling me to go after them. I'm so glad I did..." Betty says gratefully, and smiles in kind of happy, but nostalgic way. "They're my best friends, you know? It felt good to reminded this afternoon that this is why we do this, this is our thing together. Even if you couldn't be there for it," she adds, slightly teasing.

 

Veronica laughs. "Again, very sorry. But the advice was the least I could do after today, and everything you helped me through. It meant a lot, OK?"

 

Betty beams, then something occurs to her. "I'm glad...How is all of that? Did Cheryl and Toni manage to cancel?"

 

Veronica looks at her in surprise, reminded that she was off the loop de loop like four turns ago. "Uh, yes, actually...but I have some interesting things to tell you, too,"

 

Betty looks interested. "Come tell me in the green room - we're hanging out with Toni's band, and I'm pretty sure there are some interesting things there too..."

 

Veronica giggles. "Ooh, I'm intrigued, lead the way..." 

  
  


***

 

**5:35pm**

 

"I'm dying to get a beer, do you want one?" Archie asks, still looking pink and energized from performing. He grins wider. "Do you drink normal beer? Or are you only into like, local craft beers from your favourite bar in Portland?"

 

Jughead scoffs. "No...well, we have some really -" he starts, and Archie laughs.

 

"I knew it! Will you lower yourself to our Californian swill, just this one time?" He teases, laughing.

 

Jughead rolls his eyes. "You're the worst. But yes. I will have one, thank you," he replies, and Archie nods, still grinning.

 

"Coming right up..." he says, and walks off to the drinks trolley.

 

Sweet Pea walks up to the space recently vacated by Archie, regarding Jughead shrewdly.

 

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were happy, Jones," he deals, a smirk dragging already dragging the corners of the of his mouth up.

 

Jughead just smirks back at him. "And your new  _ bro _ is where, again, Pea? 

 

Sweet Pea is unflapped."Went to the bathroom." 

 

They look at each other curiously, like they're waiting for the other to blink first. As long as they've known each other, there had always an element of competitiveness in their relationship. Or a kind of rivalry, even when they weren't going for the same things. 

 

At the same time, Sweet Pea would - and had - stuck up for him to anyone who talked shit about him, to the point of violence, and (minus the violence, mostly) Jughead unquestionably did the same for him. 

 

But for some reason, even after nearly a decade of knowing each other, they still found it hard to talk about how they honestly felt, to each other. It wasn't like that with their two other friends. And they were a lot better at it now than they used to be. But it's still not easy, which is why they're in this strange emotional stand-off.

 

Jughead decides to lower his metaphorical gun first, at least.

 

"Look, Pea, I don't know what's going on with you, but honestly - you seem happy too. Like, the most I've seen you in a while, and that's...really great," he says, trying to sound as honest and unironic as he can. He finds he generally sounds pretty ironic ans sarcastic, which can be a problem when he actually is being earnest for once.

 

Sweet Pea looks taken back, and doesn't say anything for a moment.

 

"Yeah," he says, simply, with a strange little half-smile - like he's wondering at himself.

 

He looks at Jughead. "I -" he looks down for a moment, like he's still trying to figure out what he's thinking. He looks back at Jughead again. "We went through some real... _ stuff _ today," he says, like the word  _ stuff _ isn't at all sufficient but he doesn't know what else to call it. "Talked about things - stuff I never talked about. Some stuff that I've maybe never talked about, or not in years. Certainly never with anyone I've ever been with, I guess."

 

Jughead is surprised, certainly. Maybe he'd underestimated the obnoxious gym bro, if he'd managed to bring out a side of his friend he hadn't seen in years - a more vulnerable, but conversely more open side of him - then perhaps be wasn't so bad. Well, not the worst.

 

Sweet Pea looks at him, again, like he's trying to work something out, and smiles a little more. "I  _ really _ don't know what to do now, though, Jug. I'm fucked," he says, with a strange, nervous little laugh.

 

Jughead looks back at him, and tries to channel Toni's or Fangs' knack for advice giving. "Pea. Slow down. First of all, have you...told him any of your - feelings, or whatever - yet?"

 

Sweet Pea goes to argue, but then says nothing, like he's just realized this."I mean...No, you're right, fuck. I gotta figure out where he's at with this."

 

Jughead nods supportively. Sweet Pea looks at him, smiling again, a little slyer this time. It's suspicious. 

 

"Well that's me...what about you, Jug?"

 

Jughead shrugs. "What about me?"

 

Sweet Pea gives him an unconvinced look. "OK, we're doing this? Lead singer guy. Hot. Ginger. Ring any bells?"

 

Jughead rolls his eyes again. "Yeah, I remember." 

 

Sweet Pea looks at him incredulously. "So what are you gonna do about it, Jones?"

 

"I - what? I don't have to - do anything about it," he says, feeling slightly annoyed now.

 

Sweet Pea looks familiarly annoyed now, and mouths wordlessly, irritably, before regaining composure. "God, Jug, you drive me nuts sometimes, you know? If I can tell Reggie how I - feel, or whatever, you can -"

 

"But - I'm not in love with anyone, so -" he interrupts, less coolly than he'd like to admit.

 

Sweet Pea looks at him darkly. "Whatever, you're  _ something _ for him, Jug, and you always end up hiding yourself away and - if I have to do this, you should too, OK?" he finishes, somehow both annoyed and imploring.

 

Jughead feels annoyed, too, more than he can explain. "It doesn't - matter, OK?" he hisses. "Whatever I - he's not into me like that. I know. He's straight as an arrow. It's OK, I'm an adult, I'll get over it."

 

Sweet Pea gives him a particularly infuriated look at this and sighs. "God, Jug, you always think you know best, don't you?" 

 

Jughead means to protest this, but Sweet Pea keeps talking. "I'm just saying...don't just assume you know everything here, OK?" 

 

Jughead looks back at him, confused. Before he can ask anything, though, Archie's back with the beers.

 

He smiles at them both guilelessly, and hands a beer to Jughead and offers one of the two left to Sweet Pea. 

 

"I thought I'd bring one for your friend," he says, jovially. "Do you want this one?" he asks Sweet Pea, who accepts with wary civility.

 

"So what are we talking about?" he jokes, smiling widely.

 

Jughead's stomach jolts, and he instinctively looks at Sweet Pea. "Uh...your friend, Reggie, actually. So you've all been friends since freshman year? That's about how long we've known Jug, funnily enough. Or just over that?" Sweet Pea bullshits, rather magnificently.

 

Too bad he's just made Jughead realize how fucked he is, as well.

 

***

 

**6:02pm**

 

"I've been dying for that, God," Sweet Pea says, tipping his head back.

 

Reggie breathes out and chuckles. "Thanks for sharing again, dude,"

 

Sweet Pea scoffs. "Yeah, thanks for that. It's not like you could definitely afford your own cigs," he snarks. It's true, but right now he doesn't mind.

 

They're outside the stage watching the sunset, in a secluded area.

 

He looks sideways at Reggie. "But after today, maybe it's the easiest thing we've shared?"

 

Reggie half-laughs, a surprised sound. "Yeah...I guess you're right." 

 

They stand in silence for a while.

 

"I - uh, wanted to say thanks," Reggie starts, uncharacteristically quietly. Sweet Pea's seen him cocky, stoned, angry, devastated - but this is something else. Humility, even? No, can't be.

 

"For your advice," Reggie continues, awkwardly. "I mean, it probably saved my whole career and my closest relationships." 

 

Sweet Pea nods. "I mean, yeah. I'd always do that for a - friend," he says, baulking at what to call him, suddenly.

 

He senses Reggie tense up. 

 

"Right. It's weird I only met you this morning, and we're...friends now," Reggie muses, and smirks at him. Humility over then, apparently. "I've never really...stayed friends with a one night stand. Or, one day, I guess."

 

Instantly the desire to punch him in the face returns, as it always must, apparently. Of course that's all it is, after all.

 

"Well that's nice. Look me up if you're ever in Portland," he says, barely keeping the sarcasm out of his voice, as he throws his cigarette down and starts butting it out.

 

"Wait, what? Are you mad?" Reggie asks, with a laugh in his voice. 

 

"Why would I be?" he says, turning to go 

 

Reggie grabs his arm, which makes him even madder.

 

"What's your problem now?" Reggie asks like doesn't know. He's not smirking now, though. "Why are you mad at me?" 

 

"Why are you?" Sweet Pea explodes.

 

Reggie looks taken back. "I'm not! - You're the one who just started walking off!"

 

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes. "Oh fucking  _ please _ , I heard your voice change. You were actually being, like, humble - and I've only known you less than twelve hours, but I'm pretty sure that's a rare occurrence - and then you started being all smirky again, and being like, 'I don't usually stay friends with my hookups -"

 

Reggie looks irritable now., and cuts him off. "Well, what did you want me to call it? You're the one who called us friends, OK?" 

 

Sweet Pea shakes his head and makes a frustrated, wordless gesture. "You - that's what this is about?" 

 

Reggje just stares at him insolently, unwilling to admit it.

 

He stares back at Reggie, opens his mouth, closes it and then opens it again.

 

"You fucking - I don't  _ know _ how else to refer to...whatever this is. Hookup? Friend? Therapist?" he gets out, furiously, and sighs. "I've been killing myself trying to figure out how to ask you, but you came back after the show, and you were just - you, again, and I started thinking, maybe none of that matters now. Now you're OK again," he finishes, sort of surprised himself by the depth of his feelings here.

 

Reggie friends at home, shaking his head. "Then you're a fucking idiot, Sweet Pea," he says, and Sweet Pea bristles, instinctively. "You fucking - saved my -  _ life _ \- and you think I'm  _ so _ fucking shallow I'd forget that so quickly?" 

 

"I don't know you!" Sweet Pea says defensively. 

 

He's anxious now, even though he doesn't think he was totally wrong to assume flakiness of someone like Reggie. 

 

"I just met you. And -" he looks at his feet, and swears. May as well. "I'm not great at trusting people to act...fairly," he spits out, uncomfortably. "I've never really been through anything like today." 

 

Reggie looks, strangely, a little relieved. "You think I have, dude - I'm, I don't even know."

 

He shakes his head. "You already know I'm a mess. And you're - you're not the easiest person to read - I was wondering how to bring it up with you. I was fucking  _ nervous _ , alright?" Reggie admits, looking embarrassed.

 

"Oh," Sweet Pea says, faintly, feeling a bit stupid now. And then annoyed, as usually follows this emotion for him. He looks at Reggie. "OK, but I came to your show for you. Look, for me, that's a big move." 

 

"With your friends who were already coming! You could've -" Reggie protests, then breaks off, smirking. "OK, fair enough," he says, and looks at Sweet Pea. "So I was right. You are crazy about me," he says, a familiar glint in his eye. 

 

Sweet Pea glares at him."No one said crazy, OK? No one said anything in fact." 

 

But Reggie's smiling like he's already wondering. He hasn't taken his hand away yet, and now he uses it to pull Sweet Pea closer.

 

"C'mon, you like me, dude. Admit it," he says, grinning in a way that is both familiarly terrible and far too attractive. Especially now they're closer.

 

"Do you need me to say it? I like you, even though you seem constantly mad, and you're always giving me shit," Reggie says, and smiles wider at Sweet Pea's defensive splutter. "Or probably because of it," he says, and pulls Sweet Pea a little closer.

 

Sweet Pea swallows and looks away for a moment, and then looks back at Reggie. "Ok fine, I like you. Quite a lot, for some terrible reason," he admits, and he's not proud of the the childish flip-flops that Reggie's smile at this makes his stomach do.

 

Reggie moves and he puts a hand on his chest to stop him.

 

"But -" he protests, weakly. "This is a terrible idea. We don't even live anywhere near each other!" 

 

Reggie laughs. "You talk too much, Sweet Pea," 

 

Sweet Pea scoffs at this, still aware that they're now very close, and Reggie still, strangely, smells good for someone who has just played an hour long show, and both of his arms are around his back now, and they're very strong and comforting.

 

"Actually, if you asked my friends they'd -" he starts, but doesn't finish the thought. He thought he would be more mad about being shut up with a kiss, but right now he doesn't mind.

 

***

 

**6:36pm**

 

Toni had to admit, it felt good to be around her boys again. Not that the day hadn't been a interesting change of pace resulting in a very favourable outcome for her love life - Cheryl and her had met up a while after the Laser/Lotus show, and Cheryl had told her everything that had gone down right as she'd left, beaming with renewed happiness as she did so. 

 

Toni had been glad that whatever problems Veronica and her had been having with each other, they seemed to be over them. She hated fighting with the boys - Jughead got extra snarky and distant, Sweet Pea yelled and stormed off and held grudges, and Fangs was the worst - it was like kicking a puppy, he just got all hurt and quiet.

 

They'd all relocated to a performers-only tent where they were hanging out and drinking, generally feeling pretty happy. 

 

Cheryl comes back from talking to Veronica and smiles warmly at her, and even smiles politely at her friends. 

 

"I have to go, Veronica wants to do some warm-ups and run through some stuff with the girls," Cheryl says apologetically, putting a hand on her arm.

 

"Of course, it's gonna be amazing. I can't wait to see you guys!" Toni replies, excited.

 

Cheryl hesitates a moment, then leans in and kisses her, quickly.

 

"See you after the show!" she says, giddily, beaming and walks off.

 

"Oooooh," Fangs cheers. "She /does/ like you, Tones," 

 

"Well, well, well, Antoinette," Jughead deadpans, dodging a swipe from her in the absence of any throwable items (except her beer bottle, but she's not /that/ mad about him using her full name). "Look at you and the ginger popstar, very cute,"

 

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You can talk, Juggie dearest," 

 

This shuts him up effectively, and his eyes briefly flick over to the other end of the room where Archie is joking with Reggie and Betty. 

 

Sweet Pea wolf-whistles. "Tone! You're in love!" he teases. She turns on him, and smiles evilly, and only Fangs grins like he's aware of what she's about to do. 

 

She squints at him, mock-confused. "You seem suspiciously happy, Sweet Pea. Look at you...you're glowing!"

 

Sweet Pea looks scandalised, and gestures at her. "Take that back! I don't glow, and I have never glowed in my life. I might glower, that's it,"

 

"Is it that cute boy over there?" Toni teases. Sweet Pea says nothing but his reddening complexion betrays him.

 

Jughead snickers. 

 

"You're definitely glowing, aw," Fangs puts in, grinning.

 

"I hate you guys," Sweet Pea says, now actually glowering at them all. "Why aren't we making fun of Jug, and his thing? It's been a great bonding activity in the past!" he protests. 

 

Toni looks at Fangs and they shake their heads in unison. "This is so much fun though, Pea."

 

"And so bonding," Jughead adds, with a smirk.

 

Toni is sure Sweet Pea's about to let loose a string of various swear words, possibly not all in English even, when she unexpectedly sees Kevin walking up to them, and looking very happy to see them.

 

"Kevin?" she calls, surprised. 

 

He holds out his arms for a hug, and she obliges. 

 

"Toni! Lovely to see you again so soon!" he says kindly, both seeming polite and somehow like he genuinely means it.

 

Fangs is looking surprised, but happy as well. "I - what are you doing here?"

 

"I've been looking for you guys everywhere, actually," he says, and smiles wryly at Fangs. "Is that a problem?"

 

Fangs shakes his head, grinning, barely looking away from Kevin. "No I'm - I'm really glad to see you."

 

Kevin doesn't look away from him yet either. "Me too," he says, with a genuine smile.

 

Jughead raises his eyebrows at Toni. 

 

"Not to step on this lovely moment here, Fangs, but who is this guy that you and Toni both apparently know?" Sweet Pea intercedes, looking distrustfully at Kevin's crisply-lined suit.

 

Kevin looks at him, and holds out his hand. "Ah, I'm guessing you're Sweet Pea."

 

Sweet Pea looks even more wary. 

 

"Your friends told me a bit about you when we were hanging out earlier," Kevin says, smiling genially. 

 

This makes Toni think of something. "Actually, shouldn't you be with the girls at practice?" 

 

Kevin looks at her. "Oh, they don't need me there. And I've actually got more important business to talk to you all about here," he says mysteriously.

 

She's intrigued. "What would that be?"

 

"And who are you, again?" Sweet Pea adds, in a tone that makes Fangs look at him and hiss "Pea!" scoldingly. Toni figures he must really think Kevin's worth it if he's bothering to scold his best friend.

 

Kevin doesn't look fazed. She figures he's dealt with ruder musicians and the like before. "I didn't introduce myself earlier, sorry. I'm Kevin Keller, and I have a proposal for you - as in Jughead's Revenge, the band." 

 

Sweet Pea looks wary, but more interested than before. 

 

Toni only knows what she hopes he might say, but can't assume its anything too exciting yet. Fangs looks excited. Even Jughead is betraying a mild interest.

 

Kevin smiles at them, seemingly excited too. "So earlier, Fangs played me some of your music." 

 

Sweet Pea looks at Fangs, surprised, and his wary facade starts to crack and change into something more unimistakeably invested.

 

"I thought, this is great, people should be hearing this! So I looked for more, and loved that too," Kevin says, eyes glinting like he's enjoying the story. He's got them hooked. "Then I realized, I can make that happen. So I wondered, who manages you?"

 

The boys look at her. "I usually organize it all, I guess, so me?"

 

Kevin nods. "And you've done well! This festival is such a get for a small-time band from way up in the Pacific Northwest!" he says excitedly. "But how would you feel about...having a manager who actually knows the industry and can get you in the right places?" 

 

Toni gasps, and looks at Fangs, who looks stunned. 

 

"And you're going to...introduce us to one?" Sweet Pea asks, the penny evidently refusing to drop. "Someone you know?"

 

Kevin chuckles. "Kinda. Did I not say? I'm the manager for Josie and Pussycats. But I'm interested in managing you guys too," he finishes with a satisfied grin. Sweet Pea's jaw actually drops.

 

She looks at Jughead, who looks pale and taken back. 

 

Fangs puts into words what she can only seem to think. "Are you sure? Doesn't managing a band like the Pussycats make you kinda busy?"

 

Kevin nods emphatically. "Very much so. But I'm a skilled multi-tasker, and I know how to make time for important things." 

 

He looks at them seriously. "And I can promise I'll fight for you. If you want me, I'll put just as much effort in for you guys, as I do for the girls, and I don't say that lightly." 

 

"That's a...really generous offer, Kevin. Could we possibly have a moment to confer?" Toni asks, trying not to let her voice shake. 

 

Kevin nods, smiling easily. "By all means. Maybe I'll just go introduce myself to the band over there. Come find me when you have it." 

 

With a last nod at Fangs, he walks toward Betty and co, leaving the four of them to huddle.

 

Toni speaks first. "This is just a formality. We need to take this, right?"

 

"Obviously. I talked to him a lot, he knows his shit. He could do great things for us. We'd be nuts not to take him up on it." Fangs agrees immediately.

 

"Yeah, I mean, I don't trust anyone wearing a suit that expensive, but he actually seems better than your average music industry dickhead," Sweet Pea adds unexpectedly. 

 

"Oh you'd trust someone in a crappier suit more?" Fangs cracks, and Sweet Pea flips him off.

 

They all look at Jughead. "Has to be unanimous, though. What do you say Jug?"

 

He looks surprised to be on the spot. "Oh, I thought everything had been said. Yes, of course, we should." 

 

"Wow, that was easier than usual," Toni muses. She looks at Fangs. "He must really like you, Fangs."

 

Fangs smiles abashedly.

 

Sweet Pea throws an arm around him. "I didn't think I would be, but turns out I'm not opposed to you flirting us into a career opportunity. Good on you, bud!" he says, teasing but also seemingly genuinely thrilled.

 

Fangs makes a face at him. "I didn't - we just got to hanging out, after Mel introduced me to the other Pussycats. He's just - cool. Whatever."

 

Sweet looks shocked. "You were just going to sit on the fact you met Valerie Brown? Jesus." 

 

Fangs smirks. "Met her, played Mario Kart with her, but whatever,"

 

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes.

 

Toni laughs. "OK, but are we in?"

 

This time the boys agree unanimously. 

 

She beams. "So we're agreed? We're hiring Kevin!" 

 

Fangs cheers, and even Jug and Sweet Pea look pretty elated.

 

***

 

**6:47pm**

 

Betty pours herself another drink, only half paying attention to what she's doing. 

 

"Woah, steady," comes a voice from behind her, placing a steadying hand on the jug she realizes was just about to tip out of her grip.

 

"Maybe you shouldn't have this one?" Archie says, with a laugh.

 

"I'm not that drunk, I was just being clumsy," she protests.

 

"I was just joking, don't worry," he says, laughing more. "So...what's on your mind then?" he says, looking at her meaningfully.

 

She's surprised by this. "I - I'm fine, why do you think I'm - whatever?" she stumbles out.

 

Archie gives her a disbelieving look. "Betty, I know I'm not the most observant person, but I have known you a pretty long time. You've got something on your mind." 

 

She looks at him, and wants to tell him, and realises she hasn't. 

 

"OK, here it is. You ready?" she asks, and takes a deep breath.

 

And she tells him and abridged version of how she'd met Veronica five years earlier, and their one night of barhopping and half-drunken shenanigans, and how that had affected her then. And then how it had sent her into a tailspin today. Archie is unsually patient with the story, barely interrupting.

 

"And so, seeing her here - and just running into her like that felt like, I don't know - I don't believe in  _ signs _ but it felt like...something," she says, a little wistfully. Maybe she is drunker than she thought.

 

Archie smiles. "I thought there was something you weren't telling me when you introduced her. Is that why you've been distracted since she left?"

 

Betty groans. "I don't know. Maybe. But not intentionally - you know I love hanging out with you guys. And that guy, Kevin, is actually very cool, so - I don't know."

 

Archie shakes his head understandingly. "No, I get it. Some people take up more space in your mind than you mean them to," he says, surprisingly wisely.

 

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. "...yeah, that's true, I guess. That's...suprisingly sage advice from you, Arch."

 

He grins at her. "Also, she's hot. So you should absolutely go for it, what've you got to lose?" 

 

She frowns at him. "There you are. And, oh nothing, just my dignity in front of a famous popstar."

 

He laughs. "I'm not trying to be gross, I swear! But like, is she a famous popstar to you? Because you seemed fine around her earlier. I think, maybe, just you're afraid of putting yourself out there again." 

 

She sighs deeply. "Of course I'm afraid of that, Arch! But I'm also worried...maybe I'm just holding onto some idea of her, from that night. Maybe I've just idealised her in my head..." 

 

Archie looks at her seriously. "Did it feel like that today, when you were spending all that time together? She said you helped her through a family drama today, did seeing her in that state make you like her any less?" 

 

Betty stares at him. "Since when are you so good at giving advice?" 

 

He grins, reddening slightly. "Aw, shut up. I'm great at this stuff." 

 

"Not usually," she laughs. "But I appreciate it," she says honestly, and then she's reminded of his question. "And, no, it didn't change things. But every time I see her, I wind up helping her through some crisis. There's a lot of drama there." 

 

Archie chuckles. "I mean, true but it probably looks like that with you, from her point of view." 

 

Betty laughs, too. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

 

She downs the rest of her drink, not an insubstantial amount, and Archie's eyes widen watching her. "I gotta go find her." 

 

Archie beams and hugs her. "You can do it! Proud of you!" he says, cheering her on.

  
  


**8:10pm**

 

Out of the area they'd been in she gets out her phone and calls Veronica.

 

"Hey, I totally get it if you're too busy practicing or something, but can we meet up? I just need to talk to you about something. Ten minutes, tops," she says, as importantly as possible, once Veronica picks up.

 

"No, totally, come by," Veronica replies, sounding surprised.

 

"Ok, just let me know where you're all at," she says, heart pounding.

 

*

 

As she waits for Veronica to come out, she tries to calm her nerves.

 

What is she doing? Why did she take the advice of a much cared-for but romantically idiotic friend? She doesn't know.

 

Well, she wants to know. For certain. If there's - anything - there, or if anything could ever happen. Not that it makes sense. Veronica's always on the move, and even at home they live on two opposite coasts. But, and maybe it's the ample liquid courage still in her veins, she feels like she'd be unlikely to have the chance to do it again, and much rarer to do it a third time. 

 

Veronica emerges to take her back to the green room that she and the other girls are practicing in, looking excited to see her.

 

"I'm so glad you called, honestly," Veronica says, almost no trace of her earlier worries. They'd talked about her dad a little after the Laser/Lotus show, and she'd gotten the sense that while she wasn't OK with it, and it was still scary, she'd gotten over the shock of it at least.

 

"Yeah, I didn't want to interrupt -" Betty replies, suddenly unsure.

 

Veronica just looks at her, and smiles so completely it hurts her heart. She really is beautiful, especially when she's obviously so excited and happy about the upcoming show with Cheryl, Josie, Val and Mel. 

 

"You're not interrupting," she says warmly, like there's no question. "I needed a break from it anyway. I love Cheryl, but she can get super intense in rehearsal."

 

Betty grins, then looks Veronica in the eye, sterling herself. "Is there - somewhere more private we can go to talk?" 

 

Veronica's eyes widen slightly and she looks around at the roads, security guards and various other people milling around back stage.

 

"Uh, I think I know somewhere," Veronica tells her, purposefully.

 

Betty feels herself smile wider, but is already feeling her heart beat quicken.

 

Veronica leads her into a room that turns out to be her dressing room.

 

"The others are practicing, so they won't come in here. And I told them I'd be away for a few minutes, and to text if they really needed something important," Veronica says confidently, and then turns to and looks at her seriously.

 

"So...what did you want to tell me?" she says, more quietly, not looking away.

 

Betty's stomach jolts. Crunch time.

 

She looks around at the various things that decorate the room, the little touches Veronica's had put in to make it hers, and takes a deep breath.

 

"I didn't expect to see you today, but I'm so very glad I did - you're like, almost this guardian-angel-kind of person who seems to show up when I'm at a crossroads to hold up a mirror to my issues and make me figure out my shit. You did it then, and you did it today, and I'm so grateful -" she starts, aware she's starting to ramble but feeling like she just needs to get her feelings out.

 

Veronica laughs, softly. " _ You're _ grateful? Betty that, no joke, is how I'm starting to think about you. You didn't hesistate to help a miserable stranger out, and then today, having not seen me in five years, you immediately dove back into saving me. if I've helped you, it's nothing compared to what you've done for me." 

 

She looks so sincere that Betty almost forgets what she's trying to say next. She smiles, and looks down, wondering how to put it into words.

 

"No, but, you  _ really _ helped me. Before met you - I was so  _ afraid _ . I didn't know what I wanted. I was scared to even examine it. So I was doing a college degree to placate my my mother, so she could put all her dreams for my sister on me, and say she had one child who was going places, and I was sticking with the same style I'd had all through high school - ponytail, pastels, collars over sweaters, because it was inoffensive and I assumed that was what people expected from me, and I couldn't disappoint them. I was afraid to ask myself who I wanted to be, to look like, to be doing with my life. You helped me face all that."

 

Veronica looks at her, like she's kind of fascinated, and more than a little moved. "I - I never realized I had that much of an impact." 

 

Betty smiles weakly. "Yeah," she says quietly. She takes a moment and continues, looking at Veronica. "Maybe most importantly - you helped me face something I was most afraid of because I didn't want my idea of myself to change. You gave me some great advice on sexuality, and it really changed my life. I finally admitted to myself, and my friends, and then a fair bit later, my family, that I was bi." 

 

Veronica's gone quiet, looking genuinely touched so much that there are tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

 

"I'm so - damn proud of you, you know that? I know I only knew you for that night, but I knew that you were just this amazing, confident person and you were just holding back for some reason," Veronica says softly, smiling.

 

Betty nods, rubbing her watery eyes. "I got the confidence to go home, to drop out of a degree I didn't really want enough to have a career in, to be honest with my friends, even to evolve my look," she says, with a laugh. 

 

Veronica giggles. "Well if I haven't said it enough, I am loving the haircut. And the mix of plaids/jeans and darker colours without totally losing the girlier elements. It suits you, girl."

 

Betty beams. "Thanks, I try. But you - you helped me again be honest with my friends today, and I don't know what I would've done without you," she says, gratefully.

 

Veronica smiles even more, and takes her hand. "Of course, you'd do the same. You did do the same today, and that means a lot to me."

 

Betty looks at her open, grateful face and knows the time has come, truly. She takes a deep breath, looking down at their hands. 

 

"I didn't think I'd think I'd ever see you again. Truly. So I never unpacked that night, because it was just - perfect - as it was. And I wouldn't ask, but seeing you again, it felt like - something important. A sign, even." 

 

She squeezes Veronica's hand and looks at her, feeling almost crazed with emotion now. "I know I've technically known you for less than two days, but I have feelings for you. I didn't do anything about it then, and I should have, but I wasn't ready then. But I'm different now, and I have to just - know," she finishes breathlessly.

 

Veronica doesn't say anything, heavy-eyed, just stares at her like she's totally caught her off guard. Then suddenly she kisses her, and Betty thinks,  _ oh, this is what I've been missing.  _

 

When they finally break apart, Veronica laughs softly. "I've really missed kissing you," she says lightly. "That night - I know it wasn't like we slept together, even, but...it was one of the best, most intimate nights of my life." 

 

Betty murmurs a noise of agreement. "Me too. Though I guess we did technically sleep next to each other," she adds, with a soft laugh. 

 

Veronica beams at her, looking contented but also, somehow, wistful.

 

"I wish I'd known that was the last time I'd see you for five years, though."

 

Betty nods, still keeping her arms around her. "I wish I'd called you. Can you forgive me?"

 

Veronica smiles wider, amused. "Only if you can forgive me for that, too?"

 

Betty looks at her, something having occurred to her. "So, bi-coastal relationship do we know how that's gonna..." 

 

Veronica laughs. "Ever the pragmatist, B. Tonight, I just want you to see me absolutely slay this show." 

 

Betty grins. "That I can do." 

 

***

 

**7:12 pm**

 

"What do you think that Kevin is saying to them?" Archie asks, peering over to where Kevin, in his professional, expensive-looking suit has gone back to talk to the members of Jughead's revenge, who look partly stunned, and unmistakeably excited.

 

Reggie shrugs. "Don't know. Seems like something important. Good, from the way they're reacting, and you know how much they value looking cool." 

 

Archie grins. "Paying close attention?" 

 

Reggie rolls his eyes. "Please," he says dismissively, but the edge of a familiar smirk tips up the side of his mouth.

 

"It's alright, I won't tell anyone," Archie teases. "Reggie the great and powerful has feelings." 

 

Reggie makes an even more exaggerated expression of disapproval, but it turns into a rueful laugh. "Fuck. I know. What's happened to me? I didn't even know him before what...thirteen hours ago?" he says, sheepishly, and looks over at where Sweet Pea is talking with Kevin. 

 

He's never really seen this expression on Reggie - well, not in recent memory. Reggie doesn't do unabashedly fond. And yet, here he is. 

 

"Wow," he says, can't help teasing.

 

Reggie looks back at him. "I know. I'm  _ so _ fucked," he says, still smiling fondly.

 

"So that's me," Reggie says, then his fond smile becomes a lot more familiar. "I'm not the only one though." 

 

Archie attempts to feign ignorance. He's never been good at the first part. The second, on the other hand...well he's getting better at not being so oblivious.

 

"How do you mean?" 

 

Reggie gives him a deeply unimpressed look. "Really? You're gonna do me like that?" 

 

Archie weakly continues his attempt.

 

Reggie sighs. "You are? You're gonna make me read you like senior year?"

 

Reggie prided himself on a lot - amongst it all, the ability to know who Archie was into - either so he could mock or wingman him, or both. He had done this since school, including a particularly secret crush he'd had on the nerdy girl who was tutoring him senior year. 

 

Reggie shakes his head. "Alright, let's do this." He looks Archie squarely in the eye. "You're clearly into that skinny hipster you've been hanging out with all day. For whatever reason," he adds, smirking.

 

"Hey, you can talk!" Archie manages to get out, indignantly.

 

Reggie nods. "OK fair, but bro, seriously? You're not fooling anyone, least of all me, which means you're probably not fooling him either." 

 

Archie groans. "Did I mention I hate your reads?" 

 

Reggie smirks. "Hey, you brought it on yourself, bro," he says, unapologetically.

 

Archie pinches the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes, and opens them again. I really am fucked, though - ugh." 

 

Reggie looks surprised. "Really? You think  _ he's  _ out of your league?" 

 

Archie glares at him. "You don't get it, he's like - really smart, and funny in a way that I don't totally get? And like, I'm not even sure that he's even -" 

 

Reggie snorts, cutting him off. "I will give you fifty dollars if you tell him and he isn't." 

 

Archie continues to glare at him, but privately agrees.

 

He grimaces. "So, you, Reggie, are advising me to be honest about my feelings? What  _ did _ happen to you?" 

 

Reggie laughs. "I don't know. A very tall and grumpy drummer, I think?" 

 

Archie laughs. "Well I'm glad - I'm really happy for you, dude." 

 

Reggie grins at him, grateful, and that's when he feels it. There's a need to say something more. And before, they wouldn't have, but they will now. Stupid emotional maturity.

 

He drops his voice. "I won't make this a big thing, OK?"

 

Reggie nods, like he already knows what he's going to say.

 

He looks at Reggie, and hopes he's saying the right thing. "Obviously, I know we don't talk about - this, much." 

 

Reggie nods again. No-one's around them since Betty left, the other girls had left to warm up for their performance and Kevin was talking to the others away from them.

 

"But obviously that's - over," he says, and meets Reggie's eyes. It's not like he wants to be with Reggie, and he's pretty fucking sure Reggie doesn't want that either - and yet, it's kinda sad. Or just - some other part of their early adulthood, that's actually gone forever now.

 

"Yeah," Reggie agrees, quietly.

 

"But, like - thanks for being there for me. You'll always be my best guy friend, OK?" 

he says sincerely, starting to feel a little choked up, but trying not to make it awkward. 

 

"Unless you start dating skinny beanie hipster guy, of course," Reggie tries to joke, somewhat failing to mask how emotional it's actually making him too. 

 

He looks away. "Thanks for being there for me, Archie." 

 

"You know that's different," Archie replies with some effort, in response to his previous comment. 

 

He nods, and takes a moment. "Would it be totally embarrassing and lame for you if I wanted to hug you right now, dude?" 

 

Reggie smiles, and makes a show of looking around. "Nah bro, everyone's busy with their own shit anyway. Get in here."

 

*** 

 

**7:51 pm**

 

"Oh, I've got to get gone! I wanna see the girls before they get on stage," Kevin says suddenly, looking at his watch.

 

"Oh, yeah, of course," Fangs says, feeling slightly disappointed. They'd only just got out of a whole group conversation, and he'd been hoping to talk to him without everyone else. "Actually, I should probably get going myself, then. I told Mel I'd be there. I'll tell Toni."

 

Kevin hesitates for a moment, and then looks at him curiously. "Do you want to come with me then? I mean you wouldn't get to see it with your friends, we'd just be in the wings..." he says tentatively, like he's trying to give him and out but is hoping he won't take it. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

 

He looks over to where his friends seem to be getting along great with the other two members of Laser/Lotus.

 

"No, I'd like that - I think they'll be ok," he says, with a grin.

 

Kevin brightens. "Well let's go then." 

 

***

 

Val is the first one to see them when they finally get there - the walk having taken longer than expected - and she jumps up from where she's strumming on her guitar with Josie.

 

"I thought you'd forgotten about us, Kevin!" she says, mock-seriously.

 

"Never!" Kevin asserts. "I was temporarily held up."

 

"By alcohol and conversation," Mel cracks, walking over. She smiles wider when she sees he's brought Fangs with him, and hugs him warmly after Kevin.

 

"Fangs! You're here! Everything's as it should be," she says, grinning.

 

Kevin mentions something about going to talk to Josie, and they're left together.

 

"So, Kevin brought you here as his guest?" Val says jokingly, smiling at him good-naturedly. "Well, I'm glad to see you again so soon, anyway," 

 

"Don't be ridiculous, Val, he clearly came to see his new bestie - me - and for that we're very grateful," Mel says archly, with grin.

 

He laughs. "How could I not? It's one churro to you, but it's a life debt as far as I'm concerned." 

 

Mel and Val laugh.

 

"But seriously, I'm glad to be able to wish you luck guys. You already know already know, but you'll be amazing."

 

"Aw," Mel says, looking genuinely touched. "I think that churro was a pretty good investment, all things considered." 

 

Fangs hears but doesn't see Cheryl call Val over, and she walks off towards them, but not before smiling and saying, "You still owe me a rematch, Fangs. I'll hold you to that!" 

 

He laughs, and nods. "Of course."

 

Just him and Mel now, and she watches him look over at Kevin briefly. 

 

"So then, seriously -" she says in a mock-conspiratorial tone. "- what's going on with you and Kevin?"

 

He thinks about it, wondering why he feels a bit leery of admitting anything that might just be on his part. "...yeah, he's gonna be my band's new manager." 

 

Mel looks surprised, greatly, then breaks into an excited smile. "Damn - I wasn't expecting you to say that, but that's amazing!" 

 

He grins and then realises something. "I don't know if I was supposed to tell you yet though. Can you wait til he tells the others?"

 

Mel nods. "Absolutely, but that's so good! I've been saying he needs new clients, it'll be good for him!" 

 

Fangs grins. "Yeah, we were pretty stunned too - he's big time..." 

 

Mel nods, beaming. "Yeah, he's really good, you couldn't be in better hands," she says, before adding casually, "Speaking of, if you do have any not-friend feelings for him - even just a little - I'd tell him." She grins. "You'd be in good hands." 

 

He laughs, feeling his face warm. He looks over at Kevin, talking about something with Val, Cheryl and Josie - someone's missing, he thinks but it's not important. "I don't know, he's just so - together. And busy. What's he going to want with a part time muso who mostly spends his time pouring drinks for drunk hipsters or fixing cars?"

 

Mel shakes her head. "Don't be so hard on yourself! And don't misjudge him. He's not a snob," she says, and smirks. "Well, not much. Not about that stuff."

 

He smiles at her, suddenly very grateful. "Thanks, Mel. I'm really glad we met." 

 

She beams back. "Hey, if you were already successful maybe we never would've."

 

He laughs. "True. Thank God for my empty wallet." 

 

***

 

**8:22pm**

 

The girls are doing a final tune up when Kevin walks back over to Fangs after a long phone call.

 

"Sorry," he says, smiling ruefully. "Something is always going on back home. Cosmo wants to include them in a women-in-music issue, and this promoter thinks he can lowball me..." he laughs, suddenly self-concious.

 

"Busy guy," Fangs says, grinning. "Between that, the girls, and now us, are you going to be ok?"

 

Kevin looks at him funny, and smiles. "Well, you're sweet for thinking of me. But I thrive in stressful situations. And I watch a lot of true crime shows when I have a break." 

 

Fangs smiles, surprised. "Did you see that Netflix one about the nuns?" 

 

Kevin pales a little in recognition, but smiles widely. "Oh yeah, that was so good! But so insane! I couldn't stop thinking about it. That room under the stairs haunts my dreams," he says excitedly, and for a moment Fangs sees the side of him that must exist when he doesn't need to be the cool-suited big-time manager guy. It's a little nerdy, and a lot endearing.

 

"Yeah I loved it. It's kind of a thing with my bandmates now. Toni was the one who got me into it," Fangs says, smiling just thinking about it.

 

Kevin nods, smiling. Then his expression returns to that strange, sort of studying one from earlier as the silence goes on a little too long.

 

He looks at the girls, then back at Fangs. "I - this is going to sound weird, but bear with me," Kevin says determinedly, but also unsure.

 

Fangs nods a little. "Ok." 

 

Kevin looks at him, almost pained. "I need your word that if this conversation goes badly, we just forget it ever happened, ok?"

 

"Ok..." he says, starting to feel wary. "Is this - about the band?" he asks, suddenly anxious.

 

"Kind of -" Kevin says, uncertainly. "Don't be worried, it's not bad - well, I hope not..." 

 

Fangs is definitely confused, but less anxious now. "So..."

 

Kevin half-smiles, that rueful smile again. "I guess...I want you to know that I genuinely think your band is great, Fangs. I wouldn't fight for something I didn't believe in, and I believe in all four of you. It's - important to me that you know this," he says seriously, and Fangs can tell he deeply, sincerely means it.

 

"Of course. We wouldn't trust you to do the job if we didn't all have the right feeling about you," Fangs says, reassuringly.

 

Kevin smiles at him gratefully, and the genuine affection in his eyes almost makes Fangs blush. Still, at least he's nowhere near as pale as Jughead, whose skin always betrays him easily.

 

"So with that in my mind, before we get much further with me working for you - and I, really, don't do this much, and never with - " he says, and shakes his head. "I'm usually a lot more well spoken than this." 

 

"I know," he says, almost automatically.

 

Kevin smiles a little. "And usually, more to the point. So here it is: I like you. But if this is already a horrible miscalculation, we can move on and forget I ever said anything, and never speak of it again. Or, if you can't, I guess I can, not be your manager and find someone else who can be," he finishes, matter-of-factly, and looks at Fangs, although his eyes betray his apprehensiveness.

 

Fangs holds a hand up, surprised and still processing. "Woah, woah, wait, I don't want you to not be our manager," he ends up saying, and Kevin only gives a very vague nod, still looking at him.

 

"Right. Good," he says, stitedly.

 

"And the other thing -" Fangs adds, realizing he hasn't actually said what he's thinking. You are - going to be our manager soon, and you're super busy already, and maybe kind of out of my league? But in spite of all of those odds, I like you. A lot," he says, and grins abashedly.

 

Kevin looks thrilled. "Trust me, you're not below my league. I kind of thought it was the other way around?" 

 

Fangs laughs. He's suddenly glad they're in a darker side of the room and he moves closer. "I'd really like to kiss you." 

 

"Ok," Kevin agrees, grinning like he can't stop. "Probably will have to cut down on the PDA in front of the band once we're working together..." 

 

"This might surprise you, but I'm not trying to think about them right now," he says, and kisses Kevin.

 

***

 

**8:25pm**

 

Jughead has found himself in a packed crowd for the second time today. It's very unlike him to subject himself to being around this many people at all, let alone twice in a few hours. Weirder still, he's kind of - excited? To see the girls' performance. He hadn't got it before, he didn't really listen to either band's music. But he does kind of feel it now, from everyone around him. The anticipation. The excitement.

 

"Where did you go?" he reads a text, from Archie. He's about to reply, when he hears his name being. He looks up to see the very same person looking relieved, calling him over.

 

"I was looking for you, actually. I turned around and we got separated?" he says, walking up.

 

Archie's smile widens. "Yeah sorry, a bit of a fan encounter. I looked away and you'd already moved on." 

 

Jughead laughs. "I wasn't that far away. Were you distracted by them? It's OK, I understand," he teases. It doesn't quite connect, and Archie's smile falters a little.

 

"Oh, cool," he replies, somewhat vaguely. He looks around at the other people. "Are you looking forward to it? I don't think I've ever, uh, seen them live," he says, in a way that feels awkward and deliberately small talk-y.

 

"Yeah, I guess I've never seen them live. Then again, I don't really... listen to their music," he replies, feeling awkward too, suddenly.

 

"No - I wouldn't think so," Archie agrees, slowly.

 

Suddenly, he wonders what Archie's doing here, if he's so uncomfortable. But he's the one who said they should go to this show together, who wanted to hang out more. He thinks of spending the next hour in this weird vibe and wants to run as far away as he can. 

 

"If you've got something you have to do, you can do it, you know," he says, throwing it out there.

 

Archie looks taken back. "No, I - do you want to be somewhere else?" 

 

"No, but if you do, it's cool. I'm sure Toni's here somewhere," he replies, trying to sound cool and unaffected.

 

Archie half-laughs, looking at him with a quizzical kind of bemusement. "I don't, really. Why are you in such a hurry to rush me off?" 

 

Jughead frowns. "I'm not - why are you being so weird?" he shoots back.

 

Archie laughs again, sort of self-conciously. "I - I don't know. Can we just forget all that?" 

 

Jughead looks at him sideways, and he seems to be in earnest. As usual.

 

"OK," he says, little wary, but smiling again. "I am actually excited to see them. Which is weird, for me." 

 

Archie smiles wider, again. "I know. They seem like they could put on a good show. And they're pretty cool girls." 

 

Jughead nods. "I wouldn't brave this many people if I didn't think so. And that's saying something," he says, allowing himself a slightly self-deprecating joke.

 

Archie laughs. "What's that quote about 'my good opinion, once lost'?" 

 

"I'm surprised you've read Pride and Prejudice," he replies, with a quizzical look.

 

Archie shakes his head. "Betty has. She likes that line." 

 

Jughead smirks. "OK that makes more sense." 

 

Archie laughs again. Jughead likes the way he throws himself into it, unselfconscious, almost childlike but not quite.

 

Archie looks back at him, still grinning.

 

"You braved the crowds to help me out, I appreciate that," he says.

 

Jughead shrugs. "I mean, I did it mostly because I thought you were going to hit on my friend." 

 

Archie laughs, quieter, then it fades a little. 

 

"As a friendly thing?" he asks, casually, but his eyes betray a curiousness.

 

He shakes his head, and can't help his smirk. "It wouldn't be anything else, trust me, that's not us. Bad idea." 

 

This seems to brighten Archie up.

 

"You know I wasn't going to hit on your friend anyway. I just needed to find my friend, and you said they were together," Archie adds, after a second.

 

"I know that, now," Jughead replies.

 

"And I'm glad that you thought that, anyway. I really liked hanging out with you today," he says, and smiles at Jughead, but there's a meaningful look in his eyes.

 

"Yeah, I wouldn't have thought so, but so did I," Jughead replies, smirking.

 

Archie nods. "I really did. You're a - cool guy, Jug. I like hanging out with you."

 

It's gotten too dark to see Archie's face properly, but smiles, feeling weird. His friends don't make him do sincere very often, and he's not used to it. 

 

"Thanks, uh, you too," he replies awkwardly, wondering what Archie is looking for here.

 

He's aware of Archie looking at him, bur he can't quite make out his expression. It doesn't feel as warm, though. 

 

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks.

 

"No, it's - no, you didn't," Archie replies, still sounding distinctly put out.

 

"What?" he pressed, feeling annoyed. He does often saying something, and not immediately realize he's offended someone, but this time he has no clue what he's done.

 

Archie looks back at him in the gloom. "I thought - it's not important," he says shortly, and looks back at the stage.

 

"Wait, what? C'mon, can you just tell me what I did because I don't get it -" he says irritably, feeling like he somehow needs to know.

 

Archie looks at him, and even in the dark, Jughead can feel he's about to explain - and then suddenly his reply is swallowed up in an enthusiastiac audience cheer as the lights go up and the girls take the stage.

 

"Oh yeah..." comes Veronica's distinctive vocals.

 

"Oh yeah!" Cheryl repeats. The crowd is loud, cheering and singing excitedly.

 

"What?" he calls to Archie.

 

Archie calls back to him, but he can't make it out. Archie points out of the crowd, and Jughead nods.

 

They push their way out of the crowd, finally reaching a less populated side, further away from the stage.

 

"What?" Jughead asks, suddenly, strangely, nervous.

 

Archie sighs. "I like you! I thought there was something, but I was obviously wrong. And now I have to go drink until I forget this whole embarrassing day." 

 

Jughead always imagines he's going to be better prepared for this kind of thing, prides himself on attention to detail. But of course, he's standing here, completely caught off guard, with a pop duo concert playing loudly in the background, having missed a pretty big detail here.

 

"Wait - don't - don't do that -" he says, words coming out in a jumbled rush. 'I - you - just - you like me? You - barely know me!" 

 

Archie looks annoyed. "I'm not saying it's logical! I wasn't even going to say anything! Blame Reggie!" 

 

Jughead looks at him, extremely sceptical. "Reggie, your bandmate Reggie, dudely gymbro Reggie, told you to admit your feelings?" 

 

Archie half-smiles. "Yeah...weird day for everyone, I guess? I think he's in love with your tall friend, or whatever? So, that's something I've never seen with him." 

 

Jughead takes this in, and remembers how they were teasing Sweet Pea, and realises they were more right than they knew.

 

"Wow," he says, after a second. Then he becomes aware Archie is still annoyed, but still hasn't left.

 

He feels shaky all of a sudden. It shouldn't be like this, with a pop hook in his head that's going to be stuck there for days, and on the edge of an excited crowd. But he gets the sense that if he's gonna do anything about it, it has to be now.

 

"So," he says, taking a breath. "Just to be certain...you like me. This isn't just an elaborate way to say you want to be friends?" 

 

Archie looks at him, disbelieving as well now. "Not, not just friends."

 

This unexpectedly bucks him up. 

 

"Right," he says. "I do. Too. Like you, I mean. Obviously," he says. and winces internally. Just once, it would be nice to come off as intentionally smooth and cool.

 

Archie beams at him, his whole expression changing. "Really?" 

 

"Really," he says, feeling both ridiculously uncomfortable, and unstoppably happy.

 

Archie nods, and laughs like he's deeply relieved. "God, I wish you'd said something earlier." 

 

"Me? What about you?" Jughead says indignantly.

 

Archie laughs, sheepish. "I - you're so hard to read, dude! I had no idea if you were just putting up with me!" 

 

Jughead groans. "I spent hours talking through emotional issues with you! I rarely want to do that with my closest friends!" 

 

Archie shakes his head, grinning. "Well, I don't know you!" 

 

Jughead considers this. "Yeah. This is kind of crazy." 

 

"Yep," Archie concedes. "I'd still like to try, anyway. Maybe even, go on an actual date?" 

 

Jughead smirks. "I don't know, that sounds a bit too crazy, Archie," 

 

Archie laughs, and he has the wildly dramatic thought that he never wants to not see him laugh. But, dramatic is pretty on brand for him, at least.

 

He's struck by a thought. "You know, if I was distant, it's only because I thought you might have been a straight bro who was using me to get to my friend." 

 

Archie shakes his head, laughing incredulously. "Well, teach you to judge a book, and whatever."

 

Jughead laughs, and says defensively, "Can you blame me? When I met you and Reggie, you seemed like the two straightest bros on the planet." 

 

Archie grins, a little ruefully. "I can't blame you. Once upon a time we thought so too." 

 

"What happened?" Jughead asks before he can stop himself. 

 

Archie looks mildly surprised. "Each other," he admits, then adds hastily. "Not - seriously. Just - enough. To know." 

 

Jughead takes this in, and suddenly something makes much more sense. "I'm going to kill Sweet Pea, though," 

 

Archie looks confused, but relieved. "So you're ok?" 

 

"Yeah, I think I am. So, how is this...going to work?" 

 

Archie shrugs."We have a show coming up in Portland soon. But for now, I'd just like to hold your hand." 

 

Attempting to hide the thrill of excitement this gives him, he snarks, "How very Paul McCartney of you," but puts his hand out anyway.

 

Archie takes it. "I'll take that as a compliment." 

 

Jughead looks around. "Are you sure you're ok with this - publicity?" 

 

Archie scoffs. "If anyone cares, that's on them." 

 

Jughead smiles, realising that he's going to have to remember this, stupidly catchy pop song and all. Damnit.

  
  


**8:28am - Monday**

 

"Are we all here?" Toni asks, standing next to the van, them having packed it all up yesterday. 

 

Fangs nods, and elbows Jughead, who looks up from his phone with a start. 

 

"Yes," he says quickly.

 

Fangs smirks, and Jughead elbows him back.

 

"Tell me again why we have to leave so early?" Fangs asks her.

 

She shoots him her best unimpressed look. "Since we have lives back home that didn't go on hold just because we had a good festival?" 

 

He pouts. "Yeah, I know. Still sucks." 

 

"At least you'll see Kevin really soon. Some of us aren't that lucky," she reminds him, already thinking about the distance between Portland and New York. "And some of us are apparently going to be getting into texting and social media in a big way, clearly," she says, with a grin and a glance at Jughead.

 

He looks up grumpily. "If I didn't value this phone greatly, I would throw it at you, just so you know, Tone." 

 

"But how would you text Archie then?" she cackles, and dodges the pen he finds in his pocket and throws at her. He's too easy a target.

 

"And Kevin did come to say goodbye to you before, Fangs, so you're not doing too badly " Jughead adds, and Fangs nods a concession, a slow, dreamy smile spreading across his lips that she assumes is at the memory.

 

Jughead looks around. "Where's Sweet Pea?" he says, like he's just noticed.

 

Fangs grins. "I don't think I have to tell you guys, right?"

 

Toni shakes her head. Boys. Everytime. It's not like she wouldn't have wanted an extra hour or two with Cheryl this morning. "I told him quarter past, no later. He's always doing this." 

 

"Cut him some slack though, it's been a long while since he's done  _ this _ ," Fangs points out, and her and Jughead nod in consideration.

 

No sooner does he say this than they see their friend sprinting towards them, looking tired and rumpled, like he got out of bed five minutes ago, but uncommonly happy as well.

 

'Hurry it up, dude, we all wish we could stay longer, but gotta get on the road!" she says, only really half-annoyed.

 

"Yeah we all have people we'd like to be getting hickeys from, come on," Fangs teases, and Sweet Pea looks abashed, and immediately moves a hand to his jacket collar and messes it up a bit. It's a pretty big one to hide, though.

 

Even Jughead looks up and smirks at her.

 

Climbing into the van is the same kind of arguments and teasing that usually occurs - it might be four days ago - and then she's in the passenger seat, and she looks at Sweet Pea. 

 

He looks back at her from the driver's seat, conveying the same wordless emotion. Not like fear, or anger, or even tears of happiness. It's just a feeling of great change.

 

She looks in the rearview mirror, and realises Fangs and Jughead have gone silent, and knows they're feeling the same thing.

 

"Big weekend," she says, sort of both to herself and everyone else. 

 

"Good weekend," Sweet Pea agrees.

 

"Yeah," Fangs sounds off quietly, behind her. "It's all changing."

 

Then Sweet Pea starts the van in the way he fucking - knows - she hates because it's bad for the van, and it costs money that they don't have - 

 

" - Yeah, well if I don't do it, we're stuck here so if you want to get back to Portland in this fucking van, Tone -" Sweet Pea retorts.

 

"It's not all changing," she hears Jughead reply to Fangs in the background, and grins. They're right where they need to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much more to say here but just, it's very cool to have finished another of these very long fics & I wouldn't have done it without a lot of cool supportive people backing me up!
> 
> (Special shout outs to @village-skeptic for the original idea and subsequent support and @ManyColouredDays for being my ride or die fic friend)


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